The Case of the Shady Bauble
by Dragonsbane1611
Summary: The sleuth that tracks down the gum on the bad guys' shoes: Harry Potter, Private Eye.
1. July 23: Introdutions and Hesitations

July 22, scratch that, 23: Introductions and Hesitations  
  
  
  
Cold and dreary was the night; every night in this town. The days were hotter than match heads, but the nights were like death on holiday in the arctic. Shivering, I pulled my coat tighter around me and surveyed the landscape from the shadows of the dank, trash-riddled alleyway, silently cursing myself for not choosing the tropical alleyway behind the Forge. It was still cold there, but the freezing, bikini-clad occupants were nicer.  
  
Steam rose from the gutters as a light rain fell to the cobblestone roadway upon which a single person had not set foot in the last hour. I started to contemplate why I was even there in the first place. Did I really expect to see something? Of course, I didn't. Then why was I standing in a cold alley waiting for something I didn't expect to see?  
  
Sighing, I took a cigarette from the brass holder I carried in my coat pocket and pressed it between my lips. Once lit, I took a long drag and held the cigarette between my thumb and forefinger, studying it as I exhaled. Remembering.  
  
  
  
The morning hadn't gone at all like any other July 22 I could remember. I woke up late, cut myself shaving and found one of my wingtips hanging on the desk lamp. Spying the empty bottle of firewhiskey on the filing cabinet, I decided I didn't want to recall the night before and took the shoe without any questions. The phone rang as I was fumbling with the knot in the shoelace.  
  
"What?" I answered, shouldering the receiver and going back to the knot.  
  
"Where are you?" Ron hissed on the other end.  
  
"You tell me. You called," I grumbled.  
  
"Hermione's going bust a nut if you don't show up soon."  
  
I snorted at my partner.  
  
"She may wear the pants at your house, pal, but she ain't got nothing on m…"  
  
"Harry, if you're not here in ten minutes, I'm going to hex you into femininity!" my secretary wailed in the background.  
  
"I'm on my way," I said, hanging up and forcing the shoe on my foot, the knot only made worse by my fumbling. Grabbing my hat and jacket and making sure my wand was in my pocket I started for the door of my apartment. I contemplated taking my trench coat in the event that it was going to be another late night, but left it, hoping that if that were the case, I'd be too drunk to care.  
  
Eight minutes later, I bolted through the door to the office I shared with Ron, huffing and puffing, and found Hermione tapping her wand on her desk, watching the clock on the wall.  
  
"You're a lucky man, Harry Potter," she told me, placing her wand back inside her handbag and standing. "Do you know what time it is?"  
  
"Eight and a half minutes since you called?"  
  
"Wrong. The correct answer would be 'one hour and eight and a half minutes later than you should have been."  
  
"I slept in," I shrugged, looking to hang my jacket on the peg by the door but seeing my trench coat already occupying the hook I normally used. I wondered briefly at this, sure that I hadn't brought it with me, but decided not to think about it and hung my jacket on the next peg. Ron was silhouetted in the sunlight filtering through the blinds, slouching on his desk, hat on and cigarette dangling from his mouth. Upon closer inspection, I found that he was impeccably well kempt, his suspenders spaced perfectly on his shoulders and chest.  
  
"I see she not only wears the pants, but she puts you in yours as well," I muttered as I passed him on the way to my own desk which faced his. My partner growled and moved to sit in his chair.  
  
"Why was I supposed to be here an hour and, what is it? Nine minutes ago, now?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and placing my feet on the desk.  
  
"What did you do to your shoe?" Hermione asked disdainfully, frowning at the poorly shoelace. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled a loose string and the knot came undone. "Tie your shoe, Potter," she told me. I looked at her incredulously as she walked to her husband's side, hesitating before tying the lace.  
  
Pushing up my glasses, I looked to Ron for an answer to my question.  
  
"We had an appointment with Dumbledore at eight-thirty," Ron told me, leaning forward a little bit.  
  
I made a face at him.  
  
"That's not until tomorrow. I distinctly remember him scheduling for the 23rd," I argued.  
  
"It is the 23rd, you ninny," Hermione reprimanded, rolling her eyes. I glanced at the calendar on my desk and threw my head back with a groan.  
  
"No wonder this day is going so bad. I thought it was yesterday."  
  
"What does the day have to do with anything?" my secretary wanted to know.  
  
"What's gotten up your backside?" I inquired, growing weary of her bark.  
  
"You'll kindly leave my posterior out of this. What does it matter if it's the 22nd or the 23rd? I thought it was the 24th that always gave you Hell."  
  
"Aw, thanks, Hermione. Now I've got something to look forward to tomorrow."  
  
Sighing, I took my feet off the desk and replaced them with my elbows as I rubbed my eyes.  
  
"What did the old codger have to say?"  
  
"You owe your life to that 'old codger'. I'd show him a little more respect if I were you."  
  
I waved her off boredly and she wandered back to her desk. Ron tipped his hat back a little and took a last drag off his cigarette before putting it out.  
  
"Says Seamus is getting restless," he breathed, through a puff of smoke. "He's been getting strange phone calls late at night threatening him with a flobberworm beating. Dumbledore wanted to know if we'd heard anything."  
  
I furrowed my brow  
  
"What did you tell him?"  
  
"That we hadn't; that Seamus was always a bit paranoid and that it was nothing to worry about. Unless you know something I don't."  
  
"A fidgety Finnegan fearing flogging by flobberworms? No, haven't heard a thing."  
  
Ron nodded and leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the arm rests, fingers laced over his tie.  
  
"Are there any other appointments I'm forgetting?" I asked, looking at Hermione.  
  
"Not yet, boss," she replied, though I caught her sarcastic tone.  
  
"What did I do?" I mouthed at Ron who shrugged in reply.  
  
"She'll get over it," he mouthed back, beginning to twiddle his thumbs. Hermione immediately cast him a reproachful look and he wheeled his chair to her side. I rolled my eyes, aware of the impending rush of sweet nothings that was about to spew forth from Ron's gullet.  
  
A knock at the door distracted me and I looked up to see the hazy shape of a woman through the frosted glass. I straightened my tie before opening the door. Maybe my day was going to get better.  
  
No luck.  
  
"Hiya, Harry!" a familiar voice squealed, throwing her arms around my neck and kicking up a heel behind her.  
  
"Hey, Luna," I greeted, prying myself out of her grip. I beckoned her into the office and shut the door behind her. She flashed an all-knowing smile that reminded me that she didn't know so much, and I offered her a chair.  
  
"Naw, Harry, I'm good standing," she stated and paused, hands on her hips, one foot slightly askew and knee bent. It took me a minute to realize she was posing and awaiting a compliment.  
  
Looking over his shoulder, Ron made a face that crossed between disgust and confusion before turning back to his wife and whispering in her ear. Whatever flapdoodle he was gushing at her seemed to have calmed her down, at least. Choosing to ignore them, I looked back to the woman before me, but hesitated before speaking.  
  
"So what brings you in today, Luna?"  
  
Though, I really wasn't interested.  
  
"Just seeing how you are, Harry, you know. Out and about. I tried catching you this morning as you ran past my door, but you sure were in a hurry," she responded, snapping her gum and flashing an 'I'm-too-cute-for-my-knickers-don't-you-think' smile. The door opened again, this time without a knock.  
  
"Heya, Harry," Neville saluted, touching the bill on his hat with a smile as he approached the desk. His newsboys cap was awry and some of his brown hair fell onto his forehead, a quill tucked behind his ear. The short, wide tie he was wearing, one of many he rotated through the week, was twisted and flipped backwards, as it often was. "Oh, hey there, Luna." The young man's cheeks turned a little pink when he saw the woman standing near him.  
  
"Hiya, Nevy," Luna cooed, fixing his tie and kissing his cheek, only causing him to blush more. Shaking my head, I got up and pulled up the blinds and peered down at the street three floors below.  
  
That's when I saw her coming up the sidewalk.  
  
It was hard to see her face clearly because of the wide brimmed hat and the sunglasses she was sporting, but I wasn't bothered. If the face behind those glasses was half as beautiful as the rest of her, I'd be fine.  
  
She walked into the building.  
  
I moved passed Neville and Luna and flung the door open, standing on my tiptoes in the doorway to see if she was coming up to our floor.  
  
"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked, rolling away from Hermione a little and craning his neck to see what I was looking for.  
  
I started to answer, but then I heard her footsteps on the stairs.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
They didn't stop at the first floor.  
  
"What's going on?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Shush, Mione," I muttered, batting at hand at her.  
  
They didn't seem to be stopping at the second floor either, though they hesitated.  
  
"Is someone coming?" Ron asked.   
  
"Shutup, Ron," I mumbled, not turning away but biting my lip in anticipation of seeing her shadow in the stairwell.  
  
"I do hope it's my hairdresser," Luna put in, touching her hair lightly. I turned to her and the four of us threw her a collective frown and she said, "I have a loose curl."  
  
"Your hair looks great to these eyes, baby," Neville told her and she slapped him playfully on the chest.  
  
"You're so silly, Nevy," she giggled, popping her gum.  
  
Grumbling, I turned back to the corridor, only to see her hat appearing on the stairs. I shut the door and leaned against it for a moment before running to my chair. I tried tilting my hat back a little, letting some of my black hair fall into my eyes, and putting my feet up on the desk, arms hanging limply over the sides of my chair. Hearing approaching footsteps, I put my feet back on the ground and pulled a cigarette out of my shirt pocket and tossed it into my mouth, patting my pockets and rifling through desk drawers for a light.   
  
Neville lit a match and cupped it in his hands, holding it out to me. I started to lean forward when I heard Hermione ask, "When's Ginny coming, Ron?"  
  
"Sometime this morning," he answered.  
  
"Ginny's coming?" I asked, forgetting the light and the cigarette as it fell to the floor.  
  
A light knock sounded on the door and Neville jerked his hand back, dropping the match and stomping on it, cursing under his breath.  
  
Ron started for the door and I snatched up my cigarette and put it in the corner of my lips, catching him just as he reached for the doorknob.  
  
"I got this one, Ron," I said out of the side of my mouth, taking hold of the doorknob before he could.  
  
"What's the big deal, Harry?" Ron asked, giving me a confused look and beginning to fight me for the door handle.  
  
"I got this one, Ron," I repeated through clenched teeth, pushing him away with my shoulder. He stumbled a little and I stood triumphantly.  
  
"Harry, it's just …"  
  
I flung the door open and my jaw dropped when I saw the woman on the other side as she took off her horn-rimmed sunglasses.  
  
"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, pushing me aside and embracing his sister, carrying her into the office. I pushed the door shut and braced myself against it with my palm, still in shock.  
  
"Hello, Virginia," I managed.  
  
The younger girl hesitated before she turned and looked me over briefly.  
  
"Harry," she said flatly, boredom in her features, turning back to her brother and sister-in-law. I lumbered back to my desk, noting to myself that July 23rd was quickly becoming my worst day of the year.  
  
"It looks like you guys are pretty busy," Luna sighed, looking around the office. Pulling my wand from my pocket and tapping it on my desk lackadaisically, I nodded my consent. "I'll see you around, Harry. Ron. The usual time, Nevy?"  
  
"You bet," the enamoured man told her as she trailed a hand across his chest, sauntering to the door. With one more glance at me, she winked and cracked her gum before exiting.  
  
Neville seemed to be regaining his composure and I called to him.  
  
"Whaddaya got for me, Neville?"  
  
"Oh, right. Harry." The man moved and rested on the edge of my desk, pulling a small notebook out of his shirt pocket and flipping it open, retrieving the quill from behind his ear. He tapped the point on the paper and opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to be at a loss for words.  
  
I glanced at Ginny's back and wished Neville would tell me something urgent so I could leave and have a better reason than an unquenchable thirst for firewhiskey.  
  
"You haven't put me on a job in weeks," he declared, looking at me oddly. This was true. I hadn't had a job in weeks. What was that? The firewhiskey had begun to call to me.  
  
"Then why are you here?" I asked, glancing again at the ginger-haired girl that was avoiding my eyes.  
  
Neville chose his words very carefully, flipping the notebook closed and pocketing it. He twirled the quill in his fingertips.  
  
"I have a … tip, let's say, from … an anonymous … source."  
  
My eyes shifted back to him and I knew who his 'source' was.  
  
"What does she want now and why didn't she just ask me herself?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.  
  
"Whatever. What is this … 'tip' you've got?"  
  
It was Neville's turn to hesitate.  
  
"There's some questionable business going on in the black market."  
  
"It's the black market, Neville. By definition, it's questionable," I informed him.  
  
"Well, sure, but doubly so this time."  
  
"How is that possible?" I had to ask, choosing to ignore the fact that Ginny had bent to pick up something that had slipped off Hermione's desk and staring at Neville intently, though the view wasn't nearly as attractive.  
  
"Word on the street is that there's gonna be an illegal shipment of …"  
  
"Shipment of what?" I asked, looking at him expectantly.  
  
Neville's reply was muffled by his not opening his mouth hardly at all and the quietness of his voice.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Rummleorredoracks."  
  
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head.  
  
"Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks," he said quickly, glancing sheepishly over his shoulder, making sure no one else heard.  
  
"Damn it, Neville," I cringed, letting my wand fall to the desk and feeling the call of the firewhiskey very similar to the navel-tugging of a portkey, differing only in that the summons of the beloved drink did not, unfortunately, possess transporting powers over long distances.  
  
"Just consider yourself tipped off," the man said, standing and holding up his hands, palms outward.  
  
"Thanks, I'll remember that."  
  
"You know how to get me if you need me," Neville said, tapping the bill of his hat in my direction and again at Ron. He took it off and bowed at the ladies who waved. He replaced his cap and left.  
  
Again, I found myself being ignored by everyone in the room. Wasn't this my office? I spun to look out the window and decided to smoke the cigarette still hanging from my mouth, but, upon finding my lack of lighting utensil, I put it back in my shirt pocket.  
  
"You should tell him yourself," I heard Ron say and felt eyes on me, but I refused to turn around and spied an airplane in the clouds.  
  
"Right now?" Ginny asked quietly.  
  
"Whaddaya know?" Ron exclaimed, "Now would be perfect, seeing as Hermione and I were just stepping out for lunch."  
  
"We are?" Hermione asked and there was movement behind me as if Ron had pulled his wife to her feet.  
  
"It's only ten, Ron," Ginny put in.  
  
"Perfect hour for coffee."  
  
"I thought it was lunch?" Hermione asked.  
  
"It's only ten, Mione. I can take you for breakfast if you're hungry."  
  
I bit back laughter and noticed a fly buzzing around the room.  
  
"Hey, Harry, we'll be back after awhile. Going to get some breakfast for Hermione, she's hungry," Ron called.  
  
"Am not," my secretary interjected heatedly.  
  
Ron ignored her, "Do you want anything?"  
  
I spun lazily to face the three Weasleys.  
  
"No thanks."  
  
"We'll be back," and with that, Ron rolled his chair back to his desk, slung his jacket over his forearm and pushed his wife into the corridor. He shut the door loudly behind him and I was left trying not to look at the younger Weasley yet again.  
  
"Would you like to sit?" I asked, motioning to the chair behind Ron's desk.  
  
"Why not?" she replied, strolling to the chair and sitting down. I clenched my jaw and leaned forward on my desk, unwilling to let myself remember the way she moved.  
  
"Ron didn't tell me you were coming," I made an attempt at polite conversation.  
  
"Why would he do that?" she inquired, quirking a fiery eyebrow.  
  
She had got me there.  
  
"We're best friends. Things come up in conversation," I covered quickly. "You just visiting family, or are you here on business?"  
  
By business, I didn't mean her's, but that of her famed fiancé. I scowled inwardly at my own mention of the scum.  
  
"Funny you mention business," she began, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. My gaze shifted immediately to the fly I'd seen earlier. "No one knows we're here yet besides Ron."  
  
"Au contraire, miss. I was having a friendly chat with your soon-to-be-father-in-law and he mentioned it."  
  
She seemed suddenly unnerved.  
  
"Why were you talking to Lucius?"  
  
"He's a business man, and sometimes I find myself in need of his services."  
  
Ginny gave me a look of absolute loathing.  
  
"The truth comes out, at last. I knew you were familiar with his … strumpets," she spat.  
  
"I never touched his strumpets or anyone else's until you flew off to wherever it was with your new bauble," I spat back with a fluttering hand gesture, standing up.  
  
"Oh, so it was me who sent you to the trollops, was it?"  
  
She was standing now as well, her voice getting louder.  
  
"And Draco is not a 'bauble'. He has very expensive tastes, actually, unlike some men I've known," she hissed coming around the desk.  
  
"Just because I like the simpler things in life doesn't mean I'm worthless," I shouted, taking a step toward her.  
  
"I never said you were worthless. Just cheap," she said quietly, looking up at me.  
  
I couldn't argue this point and she knew it, so I kissed her, returning to my chair when I pulled back.  
  
"Why in the hell did you just do that?" she asked loudly.  
  
I couldn't answer that, so I didn't. Rather, I picked up a quill out of the ink stand and scribbled something about a shipment of Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks.  
  
She sighed and pulled Ron's chair to my side, sitting down and spinning me to face her.  
  
"I do have something I need to talk to you about."  
  
I was happy we were speaking freely finally.  
  
"Lay it on me, ba … Ginny," I corrected at the last second.  
  
"It's about … my fiancé."  
  
"How's the bau … How is Draco doing these days?"  
  
"He's been acting funny lately; shady, almost."  
  
"Draco Malfoy, shady? No," I mocked, leaning back in my chair and smirking at her.  
  
"He's very good at what he does, Harry. As foolish as it sounds, the front is legitimate. There was a time when even you, Harry Potter, Private Investigator: Gumshoe Who Finds The Gum On The Bad Guys' Shoes, wouldn't have been able to find a drop of wrong-doing associated with D.M.'s Bubbly Pop Bottling Company."  
  
I snorted at the slogan I used to have printed at the bottom of my business cards. I wondered if she remembered the slogan she wrote in my birthday card two years ago, as well, but shook the thought out of my head.  
  
She was right about the bottling company. After she had left me, I sought out any possible crooked affiliation of Draco's, and as far as records were concerned, they didn't exist.  
  
"What exactly do you think he's doing?"  
  
"I don't know," she mumbled, standing and turning away from me.  
  
"What do you want me to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
My shoulders slumped and I frowned, contemplating why I even chose to wake up in the mornings, seeing as the only one really interested in speaking to me was an antique of a man that was the editor-in-chief at the newspaper. I moved to stand behind her.  
  
"Then why are you here?"  
  
She hesitated before turning and looking up at me.  
  
"I wanted to see you again."  
  
I liked that answer so much, I gave her another kiss.  
  
She quirked an eyebrow at me.  
  
"You've been drinking."  
  
"I have not."  
  
"Last night. Firewhiskey. I can taste it on your tongue."  
  
I smiled a little.  
  
"Is that a wand in your pocket, Harry, or are you just happy to see me?" she smirked.  
  
My eyes widened a little as she turned and started for the door. I opened my mouth to tell her, that, obviously, it was my wand, but she spoke up first.  
  
"Your wand is on your desk."  
  
Again, the young Weasley was right, so I sat down and dropped my hat into my lap.  
  
"I overheard Draco say something about meeting an old friend on the strip tonight," Ginny told me, looking back, her hand on the doorknob. "Thought you ought to know."  
  
  
  
And that's how I found myself skulking in the dank alleyway, drowning in the light rain that had soaked my fedora thoroughly. I remembered her taste and smiled, feeling that old feeling in my stomach.  
  
"It's much better if you suck on them," a voice I didn't want to hear called to me. I hadn't even seen her approaching.  
  
"Excuse me?" I asked, squinting through the rain at Luna Lovegood standing by the streetlamp a few feet away.  
  
"Your cigarette. You're just looking at it as it burns in vain," she clarified, snapping her gum. I quickly brought it to my lips and motioned for her to step out of the light of the streetlamp.  
  
"What are you doing here? I thought you had a date with Neville."  
  
I offered her a drag off the cigarette and she accepted.  
  
"He's sleeping. I'll be back before he wakes up," she said, exhaling the smoke slowly and flicking ash to the wet sidewalk. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I don't know," I muttered, reclaiming the addictive distraction and puffing lightly on it.  
  
"Want to get a drink?" she offered.  
  
"Not with you," I replied, "You can finish that; they're going to kill me someday."  
  
"You'll kill yourself first, falling after Ginny again," she told me, taking one last draw off the cigarette before letting it drop to the concrete and crushing it with her foot.  
  
"Goodnight, Luna," I called over my shoulder, as I exited the alleyway.  
  
"See ya, Harry," she said, her gum popping a final time as I walked away, heading for the Forge. 


	2. July 23: Late Night At The Forge

Late Night at the Forge  
  
  
  
Standing under the flashing sign of Fred and George's (affectionately dubbed 'the Forge'), I smiled at the old friend I found in the building itself. With one last glance up the street, I went inside and shook some of the water off my coat.  
  
"Hullo …" Fred started.  
  
"… Harry!" George finished.  
  
And so it began. They were identical twins and they always talked this way; even when they weren't distributing drinks. Being Ron's older brothers, I saw them frequently during off-times and their shtick shtuck no matter what. Dodging between tables, I made my way towards the bar.  
  
"Barman!" a portly man hailed from across the room.  
  
The twins looked at him, four eyebrows raised.  
  
"Who …"  
  
"… Me?"  
  
I found an empty barstool and took my place.  
  
"Yous," the sodden man slurred, stumbling over to the bar. "Wha's ya name again?"  
  
"Fred," and "George," were the answers given, but seeing as they were said at the same time, it sounded like, "F …" and "… orge."  
  
The man made a stupid face and looked at me.  
  
"My barman is my bes' fren' … I like ta know his name."  
  
"Me, too," I replied, looking away and jabbing the counter with my forefinger.  
  
"Whaddaya hear …" Fred said as he placed a shot glass before me.  
  
"… Whaddaya say?" George continued, filling it up. I smiled seeing the label on the bottle.  
  
"Gimme some o' dat whiskey, Forgey, old man," the fat man slapped a hand on the bar, though I think he was catching himself from toppling over.  
  
"I think you've …"  
  
"… had plenty."  
  
"Why ya doin' me like dis? I thought we was friends, Forgey," the man whined.  
  
He couldn't seem to focus on one or the other and I got the impression that Fat Man saw two people, but attributed it to his drunkenness. I downed my firewhiskey and tapped the counter again, holding up four fingers.  
  
When Fred pulled out three new glasses and George had filled all four, I held one out in the general direction of Fat Man.  
  
"Hey, buddy, you want one?" I asked, wiggling the glass a little in my fingers. The corpulent drunk took an enthusiastic, but unsteady step toward me and promptly fell on his face. Shrugging, I drank the drink instead. "Works every time," I muttered, eyeing my remaining three drinks lovingly.  
  
"You seen …"  
  
"… Ginny yet?"  
  
I glanced up at the barmen and nodded a little.  
  
"Yeah, she came by the office today."  
  
"Did she talk …"  
  
"… to you?"  
  
"Sure, she did," I replied.  
  
"Because Ron …"  
  
"… made her?"  
  
I scoffed, "No, because she couldn't deny the old Potter charm if her life depended on it."  
  
"You forget …"  
  
"… Harry, she's …"  
  
"… our sister …"  
  
"… and she left …"  
  
"… you for …"  
  
"… Malfoy, remember?"  
  
I scowled at them and tossed back another drink.  
  
"Don't get…"  
  
"… mad at us …"  
  
"… mate, we're just …"  
  
"… stating the facts."  
  
"We don't …"  
  
"… like it either."  
  
My eyes darted back from one to the other and the exchange was wearing on me. I suppose it could have had something to do with the firewhiskey, as well. I took the remaining two drinks in my hand, drinking one and heading for the door with the other.  
  
"One for the road," I called over my shoulder, stepping outside.  
  
Cursing, I ran back inside and looked around the barstool I'd been sitting at for my trench coat.  
  
"Lose some …"  
  
"… thing, Harry?"  
  
"I don't remember taking my coat off," I stated, more to myself than them. I spied it hanging limply on the coat rack by the door, strangely dry. I threw back my last drink and tossed the glass to Fred or George or whoever it was. As I pulled my coat on, I could have sworn I caught sight of a girl watching me and writing furiously in a notebook, but when I looked back, she was gone. I shrugged and stepped out into the rain.  
  
When met with the scene on the street, I ducked into the alleyway behind the bar. Rain soaked palm trees and shivering bikini-clad women cowering in the corners under umbrellas and beach towels greeted me warmly. It was one of Fred and George's quirks, creating a tropical getaway by their bar, but no matter what, they couldn't change the weather, and the residents of Beach Forge had nowhere else to go. I smiled as a couple of the girls waved, but motioned for them to stay quiet as I turned the collar up on my coat and peered around the corner.  
  
Bathed in the light from under the valance of his father's establishment, Serpensmordre, both Draco and Lucius stood, shielded from the rain. Draco was donning an emerald green, double-breasted suit and a white hat, and kept adjusting his unbuttoned collar nervously as his father spoke to him. With the rain and the distance, I couldn't hear what was being said, but Draco didn't seem pleased with the lecture.  
  
"I don't know where they are!" he suddenly shouted, and Lucius slapped him with a black glove. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing, whether at the shocked expression on Malfoy's face, or the mere fact that Lucius actually slapped him with a glove, I don't know.  
  
His father leered down at him before walking back into the building. Draco composed himself and looked around apprehensively, making to walk away, but before he could get far, Lucius' hand reached out of the door and hooked the back of his suit coat.  
  
"This isn't Panama, boy, button your collar and put a tie on. That Weasley tramp is rubbing off on you," Lucius spat loudly before retreating once more behind the door, the light extinguishing. I narrowed my eyes when I heard 'that Weasley tramp' and had to stop myself from leaving my perch.  
  
Draco turned toward the door and yelled, "You should know!" and shook his head. Straightening his jacket, he started pacing the front stoop, never venturing out from under the veil and reached inside his jacket but his hand came back empty. A commotion across the street had caught his attention and he seemed enraged. I followed his gaze.  
  
Getting dragged between two burly men in matching pinstriped suits and rolled brim hats was an unconscious Seamus Finnegan. With a glance up at the sky, Draco ran to the side of the building, the rain having let up, and beckoned for them to follow.  
  
"Damn," I breathed when the four of them were out of sight. Looking up and down the strip, I decided it would be safe to cross in front of the Forge and into an unfrequented alleyway, just on the other side of the Candied Cauldron Confectionary Company from Malfoy and his henchmen. I did this and checked the strip again for movement.  
  
None at all.  
  
Looking into the window of the confectionary, I didn't see anyone. I took my chances and knelt below the front window, making my for the alleyway and peeking around the corner.  
  
"… down the middle of the street," Malfoy was scolding his minions, red-faced and pacing. "And you definitely weren't supposed to beat him up."  
  
"We weren't?" one of them grunted stupidly.  
  
"No, Goyle, you weren't."  
  
"But, boss … that's what we do," the other put in.  
  
"Not yet!"  
  
Seamus was stirring from where they'd dropped him and he looked up at Malfoy. He gave a shout and attempted to scramble away from them, but the one called Goyle picked the little Irishman up by the scruff of his neck and held him in front of Draco.  
  
"Keep your voice down, Finnegan," Malfoy admonished, bending and picking up Seamus' hat and dusting it off.  
  
"Make this ogre put me down," Seamus demanded, his feet kicking and arms flailing.  
  
"You're much too feisty for that."  
  
"I'll take on your flobberworms any day, Malfoy," Seamus exclaimed, eyes wild, taking a swing at the blond who ducked back just in time.  
  
"Flobberworms?" Draco was obviously confused, but this only fueled his anger. He took Seamus' hat and jammed it onto the little man's head, pulling the brim down to his nose so the dent stuck up on top. "See, Crabbe, now would be the appropriate time for you to beat him up."  
  
"We can break his big toes," Goyle suggested.  
  
"And his thumb toes," Crabbe snickered and Goyle nodded in agreement. It was too pathetic to be funny and Malfoy looked to be foaming at the mouth.  
  
"Gimme your best shot, Malfoy," Seamus was saying from under his hat. "Bring all your flobberworms and whatever else you've got ready for me."  
  
Draco made a face and punched the captive square on the jaw. Finnegan swung like a pendulum, but was silent.  
  
"That one's got a screw loose," the blond commented, cursing under his breath and shaking his hand.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle looked thunderstruck that they didn't get to do the honors.  
  
"Drop him and leave him. I'll have father deal with him," Draco commanded, buttoning his top button and pulling a tie out of his pocket. Goyle did as he was told.  
  
"Where to now, boss?" Crabbe asked, stretching his neck and cracking his knuckles.  
  
"I've got a date with Ginger," he answered, smiling a little and turning toward the street.  
  
Wondering who Ginger was, I barely had enough time to flatten myself against the front of the candy shop before Malfoy exited the alley, tying his tie.  
  
"Weasley tramp … ha … she's my Weasley tramp," he was muttering, as he passed, adjusting the knot. They disappeared down a side street and I peeled myself off the wall.  
  
"Ginger. I'll remember that," I said to myself as the rain started again. I had that nagging feeling that I was being watched and spun on my heel, wand at the ready. Seeing no one, I continued on my way. I heard the sound of quill on parchment and spun again, again, finding no one. Pausing a moment before going on, I made it to my apartment without incident. 


	3. July 24: Early Morning

July 24: Early Morning  
  
  
  
I glanced at the clock on the wall and grumbled to myself about being there way too early. I seemed too eager this way; I should have been late.  
  
Ginny had owled me at home to say that she'd meet me at the office at two-thirty that morning. I'd shrugged out of my trench coat, leaving it crumpled on the floor and fallen into an easy chair with a butterbeer. I figured butterbeer would keep my senses keener in the event that this meeting was to be business related, however, I hoped otherwise. After my drink, a shower and a quick spritz of some cologne Ginny had given me when we were still speaking, among other things, I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror to make sure I was somewhat presentable, at best. Why waste time on being overly presentable when your intention is not to be scrutinized, but demoralized?  
  
My tie was a little loose and I decided this was alright. I ran my hands through my uncombed hair a couple times and topped it off with my smoky gray hat; my best hat – my only hat. Buttoning my jacket, I stepped over my trench coat and out of my apartment. As I passed the corridor on the second floor, I heard a door open.  
  
"Heya, Harry," Neville whispered, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he stepped into the hallway. His suspenders were hanging loosely from the edge of his trousers, his shirt untucked and open revealing lipstick smudges on the collar of his undershirt. "Heading out this late?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied and left it at that. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Fresh air," was his answer and he followed me down the stairs and outside. Neville leaned against the brick of the entryway and waved as I started down the street. "See you, Harry."  
  
I made it to the office sooner than I had expected and sat down at my desk, trying to think about something other than why I had agreed to this meeting.  
  
My mind wandered to the incident on the strip earlier between Draco and Seamus and I wondered how Lucius dealt with Finnegan. I was sure I'd hear about it soon enough. I looked at the clock again, and listened for footsteps on the stairs. When I didn't hear anything, I frowned, remembering Ginny always being prompt, and started to worry that maybe she wasn't going to show up.  
  
I began to spin in my chair, hoping to look casual, maybe even bored, if and when she came in. Dizziness had overtaken me when a hand on my shoulder stopped me. Focusing was a chore, but eventually the three Ginnies I was seeing melted into one.  
  
"Waiting long, I hope?" she said.  
  
I quirked an eyebrow and stood up.  
  
"Hello to you, too … Ginger."  
  
She frowned at me and put her hands on her hips.  
  
"I guess you did see him, then. Did you talk to him, or did you just spy on him like you always do?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'like I always do'?" I inquired incredulously.  
  
"Running about, ducking in alleys and under windows, peeking around corners with only your eyes visible between your hat and your upturned collar," the red-head stated, flatly.  
  
I hated her sometimes.  
  
"Yes, but I'm a private dick; that's what we do."  
  
"You got dick right."  
  
I really hated her sometimes.  
  
"Was I supposed to talk to him?"  
  
"Seeing as you are on speaking terms with his father, I thought maybe you had some catching up to do."  
  
"I'm not on speaking terms with Lucius Malfoy."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, you just like his whores."  
  
I smiled a little and she narrowed her eyes at me.  
  
"What is that for?" she asked.  
  
"You're jealous," I grinned, reaching for her.  
  
"I'm not, really," she lied, spinning away from me.  
  
"But you are."  
  
Ginny thought for a moment.  
  
"Why his whores?"  
  
It was my turn to think.  
  
"He owns the only house of ill-repute in the city?" I tried.  
  
"Surely, there are other women. What about Luna? She'd sleep with you."  
  
"Neville loves her and Neville is a good kid."  
  
She scoffed, "Suddenly, love means something to you?"  
  
Again, I hated her.  
  
"It was one girl, Ginny. Just one. I had just met her, but she's with Ron now, anyway, so it's not like I was going to keep her."  
  
"It was HERMIONE?!"  
  
Now, I hated myself.   
  
"No?"  
  
Ginny was fuming and I took the time to tighten my tie seeing as this wasn't going at all the way I had hoped.  
  
"I can't believe you had that woman in the apartment when I wasn't there. You're incorrigible," she spat, beginning to pace the office. I sighed in defeat and let her yell at me for awhile whilst I spun in my chair.  
  
I soon found myself being stopped and shaken.  
  
"Are you even listening to me?"  
  
My hat fell off.  
  
"Stop shaking me, and yes."  
  
She let go of my shoulders and I reached for my hat.  
  
"What did I just say, then?"  
  
"That I'm the most irresistible man you've ever met and you want to jump me on your brother's desk," I told her, dusting off the brim of my hat and looking up into her shocked face. Placing my hat on my head, I tapped the top with a smile.  
  
"I never said anything about Ron's desk."  
  
"Might as well. He seems to like it up there. You want to jump me now, or later?" I asked, standing up and loosening my tie.  
  
"I won't have you on that desk."  
  
I walked around her and sat on the desk in question.  
  
"But I'm already on the desk. All you have to do is 'have me'."  
  
"No, I won't."  
  
"But you will."  
  
"There are things on that desk that look important …"  
  
I pushed everything off the desk and looked at her inquisitively.  
  
"I don't see anything on this desk. Oh, except … me."  
  
I took my hat off and tossed it across the room.  
  
"Honestly, Harry …" she started, but stopped when I reclined with my hands folded behind my head, one knee bent and started whistling.  
  
"Waiting to be had … Waiting to be had …" I mumbled slowly, smirking to myself, my other leg draped over the side of the desk, swinging casually.  
  
"You really think you're something, don't you?"  
  
I grinned when I saw her approach the desk and look down at me. She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips as she removed my tie.   
  
"I'm engaged, you know."  
  
"Like it matters …" I began, but then something Draco had said earlier played in my mind. Propping my head up in my hand, I furrowed my brow. "You just came from Malfoy's, didn't you."  
  
"Yeah. So?"  
  
I thought for a moment and shrugged with a smile, "Just making sure."  
  
Her left hand played with the buttons on my shirt and she asked, "Do you want me to take the ring off?"  
  
"Doesn't bother me."  
  
"Nothing ever does."  
  
  
  
I woke up when Ron and Hermione came in after the sun had risen, with my hat over my eyes, stretched out on the couch in the back room.  
  
"What the hell happened to my desk?" Ron shouted and I heard paper shuffling. I smiled proudly under my hat and Hermione came into the room.  
  
"Harry?" she said.  
  
"Harry's here?" Ron asked as he, too, entered the room.  
  
I made no move to acknowledge their presence.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked, lifting my hat. I was grinning like a fool.  
  
"What happened out there …" Ron's eyes got wide and he pointed at me. "You! I can't believe you!"  
  
Hermione frowned and looked from her husband to myself and back again, confused.  
  
I couldn't stop smiling.  
  
"I have to work on that desk, you know."  
  
"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned in understanding.  
  
Ron looked back to his desk and made a face before moving my feet off the couch, sitting down next to me. My trench coat fell off me, slumping to the floor as I sat up straight and I kicked it away, unsure how it got to the office.  
  
He nudged me with a small smile, "Told you."  
  
My smile quickly faded. That was, until I remembered who I'd spent my evening with and I smirked, nudging him back.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Great stuff."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped my hat, stalking out of the room. I stood and bent to pick up my beloved gray fedora and found Ron pointing at me again, only this time to a spot on my chest.  
  
"Looks like you had a grand time," he commented and I looked down to find my shirt open and a raspberry coloured mark on my sternum.  
  
Vividly, I remembered receiving that mark and the others, but Ron would never see them.  
  
"Grand doesn't even begin to describe my evening."  
  
"You dog," Ron smiled slyly. "Who is she? Have I met her?"  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"Probably not," I lied and walked to my desk, buttoning my shirt. Hermione was on her knees, picking up Ron's things and he came to help her.  
  
"I should make you do this," she said, glancing up at me briefly.  
  
"Lookit, baby," Ron muttered, reaching for something I couldn't see. He came back dangling a silk stocking. My breath caught in my throat. I lunged and snatched it from his hand, jamming it into my pocket. Ron seemed to find this quite humorous and was laughing so loud, I barely heard the knock on the door. I had tucked in only half of my shirt before I greeted our guest.  
  
"Hey, ba …" She cast me a stern look. "… Ginny."  
  
Ron was still laughing and barely took notice that there was someone at the door. Ginny peeked over my shoulder a little but moved back before anyone else saw her. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the hallway. I held the door closed behind my back, safeguarding against a surprise from my coworkers.  
  
"I didn't make it home with all of my belongings," she whispered urgently.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Here." I pulled the stocking out of my pocket and she seized it, putting it into her handbag. I leaned in to kiss her when she turned back to me, but she pushed me away.  
  
"That's not all."  
  
I raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"What else? You were dressed when you left here," I reminded her.  
  
"I was wearing a necklace last night that Ron gave me for my birthday last year."  
  
I nodded and smiled, recalling taking it off and dropping it …  
  
"Damn," I breathed and my mind went into panic.  
  
"Do you know where it is?" she asked, smiling a little in relief.  
  
"Yeah, but …"  
  
"HARRY!" Ron bellowed from inside the office.  
  
"Uh-oh," I muttered, gripping the doorknob tighter. "Go downstairs. No. Go across the street. There's a little café there …"  
  
"I used to live here, Harry. I know about the café."  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
"Just go. I'll meet you there as soon as I can get away."  
  
She smiled and kissed my cheek.  
  
"Don't get yourself killed, Potter. I just got into town."  
  
Ginny disappeared down the stairwell and I slipped back into the office, putting on my best innocent face.  
  
"Did somebody call for me?" I asked, tucking in the other half of my shirt and looking around for my tie.  
  
"You rat," Ron spat, stomping toward me.  
  
I stole a glance around the room, looking for Ron's coffee mug, but didn't see it.  
  
"What's this mean?" my partner wanted to know, jabbing a piece of paper at my face.  
  
I exhaled slowly, taking the piece of paper and reading it: 'Draco Strip at 9 PM'.  
  
"Not what you're thinking," I laughed, spying the coffee cup off to one side of the few papers still littering the floor. Hermione hadn't noticed it yet.  
  
Ron made a disgusted face.  
  
"I was thinking you got a job and didn't tell me."  
  
"Oh, you're right about that; sorry."  
  
I shrugged passed him, trying my best to make in indiscreet grab for the mug, but Hermione clamped her hand over the top, not seeing me, and stood up.  
  
"Who tipped you off? Did you go? What happened?"  
  
"We'll be hearing from Seamus today, probably," I answered, eyeing the mug as Hermione set it on Ron's desk.  
  
"There's your mug, honey," she said absently, returning to her desk.  
  
"Oh, thanks, Mione," Ron muttered, hooking the handle of the mug and letting it dangle loosely. I caught the glint of rubies and rubbed the back of my neck nervously. "So Draco's behind the flobberworm phone calls?" Ron slouched against his desk and used the mug to tip his hat back a little.  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Who is, do you think?"  
  
Ron set the mug on his desk beside him.  
  
"I don't know," I replied, stealing the mug and holding it to my chest, sighing happily that it was now in my hands.  
  
"What's the big idea?"  
  
"Want some coffee, pal? Was just going to go get some."  
  
"Sure, Harry, thanks," Ron told me, smiling and turning away. I dumped the necklace into my palm and pocketed it before Ron looked up at me from his chair.  
  
"You don't need my mug if you're going across the street."  
  
I nodded, handing the cup back to my friend and asked Hermione if she wanted something while I was gone. She asked for coffee (two sugars and cream) and a danish.  
  
"I don't know any Danish. What about the Russian on the corner? He's pleasant enough."  
  
Ron chuckled at my attempt as he straightened a stack of paper, but Hermione didn't even look up with a smile.  
  
"Cream cheese, Potter. No exceptions."  
  
"There was a time when it was me who told you what to do," I said under my breath as I opened the door. "You seemed to enjoy it that way."  
  
She looked at Ron with a smirk before shifting her gaze to look up at me.  
  
"Ron's much better at that than you ever were."  
  
I looked over my shoulder at the other man. It was obvious he was trying to look as though he wasn't listening, but he was grinning and I rolled my eyes, leaving.  
  
Upon entering Deano's Deli, I spotted my old flame chatting happily with the owner.  
  
"Oi, boy-o," Dean greeted when he saw me approaching the counter.   
  
"Hey, Dean."  
  
"Deano!" someone shouted and I saw Dean sigh defeatedly. Turning, I found Fat Man from the Forge at one of the tables, looking quite chipper, this morning.  
  
"Excuse me," the counterman said, walking away. Ginny smiled at me and pulled me to our old table.  
  
"Did you get it?" she asked quietly, taking my hand over the table. I took the necklace from my pocket and handed it to her. "Oh, thank God. I thought you were done for."  
  
I raised my eyebrows with a small smile.  
  
"Concerned for my welfare? Strange new development."  
  
"If Ron killed you, who would I sleep with when Draco's not around?"  
  
"I'm sure you could find somebody. Neville?" I suggested.  
  
"I could, but Luna likes him."  
  
"Luna likes me, too."  
  
"Sure, she does," Ginny sarcastically agreed.  
  
I frowned but left it.  
  
"I thought Ron wanted you and I back together," I commented, leaning back in the booth a little. "Why were you so scared about him finding the necklace?"  
  
"You know Ron."  
  
I nodded.  
  
"His brotherly streak will come to light, again. He didn't get to beat up Draco, you know."  
  
"Well, then maybe he'll beat him up this time instead of me."  
  
"No. You're closer. He'd know when to stop before killing you, too. Ron's protective, but he doesn't need more jail time."  
  
Again, I nodded. Dean came over and placed a black coffee in front of me and a chocolate milk in front of Ginny. She took a sip and sighed happily.  
  
"What?" I inquired, intertwining our fingers.  
  
"Rich chocolaty Ovaltine," she murmured, taking another drink.  
  
I furrowed my brow.  
  
"Draco won't let it in the house. Competitor's product."  
  
"But it's muggle!" I laughed and she let go of my hand which made me stop.  
  
"He bottles bubbly pop, not chocolate milk."  
  
"I can't really say anything about it," she explained, retaking my hand. I smiled involuntarily and Dean came back, setting down scrambled eggs and sausage for me, bacon and eggs over easy for Ginny.  
  
"We didn't order anything," I told him.  
  
"It's your usual. I just thought …"  
  
"It great, Deano, thanks," Ginny said, smiling at him, and kicking me under the table. Dean returned the smile and went back to his counter.  
  
"You didn't have to kick me," I grumbled, massaging my shin. "Why can't you say anything?"  
  
"Sorry, but don't ask questions. Just eat your breakfast," she whispered with a quick glance out the window, releasing my hand and starting on her breakfast. I peered out the window but didn't see anything.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Eat. Who did Draco meet last night?"  
  
I took a bite of sausage and said, "He met with his dad and then his men brought Finnegan."  
  
"Does Seamus still have his big toes?" she asked seriously, making a pained face.  
  
"Just barely," I mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full. So he talked to Draco, then?"  
  
I swallowed this time, before speaking.  
  
"No, not really. Let me ask you this: have you heard anything about flobberworms?"  
  
She made a face at me and shook her head.  
  
"Hmm …"  
  
"Damn," she mumbled, gulping down her Ovaltine and sliding out of the booth.  
  
"What?" I asked, standing.  
  
"Draco," was her answer as she exited the café and I looked out the window and watched her cross the street with her arms out which she wrapped around her fiancé as he stepped away from Serpensmordre. I shook my head and walked to the counter and leaned casually on it.  
  
"I need two coffees; one black, the other with two sugars and cream."  
  
Dean went to fill my order and I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ginny and Draco walking up the street, arm in arm. She glanced back toward Deano's for a brief moment and I smiled to myself.  
  
"Anything else, Harry?"  
  
"No. Thanks, Dean." I paid and started for the door. "Oh, wait. I need a cream cheese danish."  
  
I gave him more of my money and took the danish. Just as I'd stepped outside, Dean stopped me.  
  
"You forgot this," he said and handed me my trench coat. 


	4. July 24: Owls and Stoolpigeons

Note:  
  
Lolua – thanks for all your kind words and continued support. About any other unsavory link ups … It's noir-esque … everybody sleeps with everybody, so certain things must be done to achieve the feel. However, I can assure you, there will be nothing more than snide references to the past in regards to Harry and Hermione (I wouldn't be able to take it either – ech).  
  
COUSIN!: Behold it is so … Fare thee well and don't let me forget my trench coat, thou mangy cur …  
  
July 24: Owls and Stoolpigeons  
  
  
  
"If he loved her, he'd let her have Ovaltine."  
  
I looked up from the notes I was scribbling down. Ron was playing Solitaire with only half of a deck of cards and making random comments as I divulged to him the little information I had, neglecting to mention my late night rendezvous. He laid down a card.  
  
"Damn."  
  
Apparently, he had lost.  
  
"Why don't you put those away and try to help me?" I suggested and Ron put the cards in his desk drawer.  
  
"Tell me one thing, Harry," he said, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.  
  
I rested my chin in my hand and began drawing baubles around my paper.  
  
"What's that, Ron?"  
  
"Now that Ginny's back, are you going to try to get with her?"  
  
I continued to draw, thinking this over for a moment.  
  
"What do you think I should do?"  
  
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione cut him off from across the room.  
  
"You should forget about her and let her marry Malfoy."  
  
My partner made a face at his wife.  
  
"And why should he do that?"  
  
"Because, Ron, Draco Malfoy can and has been taking very good care of her. It's a much better lifestyle that what Harry can offer, anyway," she explained, not even looking away from her nails.  
  
"I can't offer you any better and I don't see you complaining," Ron shot back, sitting forward in his chair, offense mingling with his anger.  
  
I decided that this conversation wasn't really about me anymore and went back to sketching my baubles.  
  
Hermione gave him an apologetic look.  
  
"I didn't mean it like that, Ron. I'm just saying Malfoy may not be such a bad choice for your sister."  
  
Ron stomped to her desk.  
  
"Not a bad choice?! Not a bad choice?! He's the worst choice!"  
  
Hermione stood toe-to-toe with him.  
  
"He is a good guy, Ron. He hasn't done anything wrong. I don't see what you've got against him."  
  
If I'd looked up, I wouldn't have been surprised to see Ron foaming at the mouth, but I was content to shade in my baubles.  
  
"Draco Malfoy is nothing more than an overblown nitwit who shells out dough left and right to get easy women into bed with him," he declared.  
  
"My Ginny is not EASY!" I roared, standing. Realizing that I'd just suffered from a severe lapse in judgment, I fell into my chair and went back to coloring like nothing had happened.  
  
"I didn't mean her, but … your Ginny?" Ron inquired, turning to me, eyebrow arched.  
  
Hermione snorted.  
  
"He obviously has yet to get over Ginny leaving him for that 'overblown nitwit', as you so graciously christened Mr. Malfoy."  
  
I put down my quill and looked up at the two of them.  
  
"Anything that I needed to get over, I got over a long time ago," I stated before going back to my overly-baubled note paper, adding under my breath, "Anything else? Well, some things never change."  
  
Hermione made another noise of disdain and sat down again. Ron, too, went to sit down across from me and I could feel his eyes on me.  
  
"So you are going to try to get with her again?"  
  
He didn't sound angry and I took a chance.  
  
"The thought crossed my mind."  
  
There was no sound from either of them and I peeked up from my paper to find Ron grinning at me.  
  
"What?" I chuckled nervously. I'd been on the receiving end of Ron's left hook, as well as many other well-delivered punches, and I wasn't looking to become reacquainted.  
  
"Finally. You're getting off your backside to do something about that …"  
  
"RON!" Hermione cut him off and he didn't finish, but put his feet up on his desk and admired me with what looked to be pride. There was a tapping noise at the window and I grumbled when I saw the Malay eagle owl with the dark, opaque eyes and the white and green feathers. At first glance, it's almost beautiful. Not to me. Not anymore.   
  
I turned a charming face on my secretary and pleaded, sweetly, "Hermione? Could you take a message for me?"  
  
"Get your own mail."  
  
"Please?" I begged.  
  
She sighed and walked to the window to let the cursed fowl in. It flew a little too low for my liking as it passed overhead on the way to Hermione's desk and I ducked. My secretary took the note and sent the bird on it's way. As soon as it was clear of the window I cranked it closed and shut the blinds.  
  
"Do you even want to know what she has to say?"  
  
"No. Hell, I could probably quote it without even looking at it."  
  
Ron smirked and Hermione looked at me expectantly.  
  
"Go on then," she prodded with a small smile of amusement.  
  
I cleared my throat and feigned a weepy face.  
  
"Harry – I desperately need to make an appointment with you. I think Roger's got someone on the side, maybe two or three, and I was walking by the cemetery and I saw a headstone and I remembered Cedric and … and … and I need a shoulder to soak with my incessant sobbing. Please, dearest Harry, owl me back as soon as you get a moment!" I capped off my performance with a hearty wail and flung my head onto my forearm and pounded the desktop with a fist for a moment before looking up to see how I did.  
  
Ron was guffawing from his desk and Hermione, who had been following along on the parchment, nodded.  
  
"Very good. But you forgot to gasp and bow your head after saying 'Cedric' and 'Love always, Cho'. I give it a nine," she told me, crumpling the letter and tossing it into the bin beside her desk. She regarded Cho and her perpetual torrent of squalling with the same contempt that I did.  
  
"Ten, Harry. That … that was great," Ron managed between laughs.  
  
I stood and bowed a couple times.  
  
"Thank you, thank you."  
  
I took my seat again, smoothing my tie and reviewed my baubled notes.  
  
"I thought we would have heard from Seamus or Albie by now."  
  
"You did not just call him Albie."   
  
"It does seem odd that Finnegan hasn't stormed in," Ron agreed, ignoring his wife.  
  
I thought about this a moment, standing and opening the blinds on the window again. Three stories below, an elderly woman was walking a hippogriff. A group of pre-adolescents who had presumably consumed a large amount of Levitating Sherbet Balls were floating out of the Candied Cauldron followed by their parents. A bespectacled girl in the alleyway beside Deano's jotting things in a notebook. The Russian on the corner was selling flobberworms.  
  
Flobberworms.  
  
I looked down the street at Serpensmordre and wondered if maybe I should have picked Seamus up last night after Draco left him. Lucius Malfoy was a crook, but I didn't think he had the testicular fortitude to actually do any real harm. At least, not since his women softened him. There was time when he would have probably beat Draco with a pipe for talking back, but last night, he merely slapped him with a glove.  
  
Something was going on in this town, but, looking back at the hippogriff, the Russian and the floating children, I couldn't put my finger on it. I looked for the girl and the notebook, but she had disappeared. Turning back to my office, I leaned against the window ledge and tipped my hat back, pinching the bridge of my nose.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Ron asked.  
  
"Draco didn't know about the flobberworms."  
  
"Seamus obviously thought he should."  
  
"But he doesn't."  
  
"Malfoy could have been covering for himself," Ron suggested.  
  
"He's not that clever. He didn't know about them. Ginny didn't even know about them."  
  
"Why would Ginny know anything about his business dealings?"  
  
"Because Malfoy's not that clever," I repeated, "I get the impression she knows more about his business than he does."  
  
"Why was Ginny so mum on the Ovaltine?"  
  
"I don't know. She wouldn't let me ask questions."  
  
Ron spun lazily in his chair and began mumbling truncated phrases as he always did when he thought.  
  
"Hermione," I said suddenly, sitting in my chair and rolling to her desk. "I need you to owl Albie and make a meeting."  
  
"I refuse to call him Albie."  
  
"Could you just write the letter for me?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I pay you to write letters for me!"  
  
"I get paid?"  
  
"To write letters for me."  
  
She picked up a pen and a new roll of parchment and looked at me expectantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Aren't you going to dictate the letter?"  
  
"I pay you to write them," I told her very slowly, to make sure she understood this time. She put the heel of her shoe through my toe to signify that she indeed understood.  
  
"Thanks," I managed, rolling back to my desk.  
  
"Those heels are killer," Ron whispered. "Almost lost my pinky toe last week."  
  
"What did you do?" The pain didn't bother me so much and I found myself grateful she aimed for my big toe.  
  
"She was whining about …"  
  
"I do not whine," Hermione corrected, as she wrote the letter.  
  
"She was complaining …"  
  
"Nor do I complain. I was addressing the situation."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and went on.  
  
"She was 'addressing the situation' about her high heels being a bit uncomfortable and that she may never wear them again, and I told her that I quite liked them – being the admiring husband that I am – and that I thought they may add some kick to our … well … and she showed me how much kick they'd add."  
  
"So she doesn't wear them for you?" I joked.  
  
Hermione's head snapped up.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Watch your mouth, Potter," Ron bellowed, "I'll not have any mention of any of that ever … again."  
  
"I was just joking, Ron," I said, hands up, palms outward. "She never wore them for me, either."  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Hermione growled something and reached for another roll of parchment.  
  
"Did the perfect Hermione make a mistake?" I asked, rolling away from my irate partner and to my secretary.  
  
"Quill slipped, that's all," she said, refusing to look at me. Her cheeks were pink and I almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost.  
  
"I don't want to see Albie anymore, anyway," I told her. "Get me Neville."  
  
"Why Neville?"  
  
"I need information and I want it straight."  
  
"Dumbledore has information."  
  
"But he speaks in riddles and I don't have time for riddles today."  
  
"Longbottom it is, then," she said and went to work. I went back to my desk, chancing a look at Ron.  
  
He narrowed his eyes at me and leaned forward on his elbows.  
  
"Did she …?" he stopped abruptly and took a quill and began writing something down. A short moment later, he passed the parchment to my desk.  
  
  
  
'Did she really wear them for you?'  
  
  
  
I thought about my answer carefully for a moment before penning my reply.  
  
  
  
'Which answer won't make me bleed?'  
  
  
  
I was happy to see that he smiled a little at this.  
  
  
  
'Fair enough. I'll take that as a yes.'  
  
  
  
'Am I going to bleed?'  
  
  
  
'No. But I'm going to get my kicks.'  
  
  
  
I laughed and Hermione scowled at us.  
  
"Honestly. Passing notes like a couple of school children," she muttered, as she went to the window. Cranking it open, she called in a singsong voice that betrayed her current demeanor, "Hedwig!"  
  
My snowy owl fluttered down from the roof and lighted on the window sill.  
  
"Find Neville," she told the bird, tying the letter to Hedwig's leg. The owl hooted in reply and flew away.  
  
"Thanks, Mione," I told her as she moved to stand behind Ron, who quickly tapped his wand on the parchment we'd been passing back and forth.  
  
"Let me see this," she said, grabbing for the parchment. I braced myself for another Hermione lecture. "Isn't that pleasant. I love you, too, Ronnie."  
  
I frowned and looked at Ron who breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione kissed his cheek and went back to her desk. My partner clasped his hands behind his head and put his feet up on his desk with a triumphant smile.  
  
There was the sound of pounding footfalls on the stairs and the three of us looked at the door.  
  
"Got your letter, Harry," Neville announced, running in through the door. He leaned on my desk, trying to catch his breath and Hedwig fluttered in through the open window and gave the breathless man an indignant look.  
  
"Thanks, Hedwig," I whispered, petting her head. She cast another look in Neville's direction and returned to her perch on the roof. I turned to the red-faced fellow still gasping for air.  
  
"You could have walked, Neville, it's not that important."  
  
"I didn't want to be late," he stated.  
  
"I didn't give you a time, did I?" I asked, looking at Hermione. She shook her head.  
  
"No. I just didn't want to be late."  
  
"Right. Sit down, then. Take a breather," I told him, offering him a chair that wasn't there. "Take mine," I said, standing and going to the window. Neville smiled weakly and sat down, pulling his notebook and quill out of his pocket.  
  
"Uh, boss?" Neville asked, frowning at the parchment on my desk.  
  
I made a face when he said 'boss', but said, "What?" as I stepped to his side. Neville took the note sheet in his hand and studied it closely. I moved to look over his shoulder but nothing caught my eye.  
  
"You forgot something."  
  
I furrowed my brow at him. He smiled and pointed at the paper.  
  
"Seamus works for Ovaltine."  
  
There was a loud 'thud' as Ron's feet hit the wooden floor and he leaned forward in his chair. I backed away from Neville, thinking this over.  
  
"That's it, Harry," Ron breathed.  
  
"What's it?" Neville asked, confused, but obviously happy that he was useful.  
  
"That's the connection," I agreed, "but we don't know why."  
  
"What does Seamus do for Ovaltine, Neville?" Ron inquired.  
  
"He's a tester," he answered, his grin broadening.  
  
Again, I thought for a moment.  
  
"That explains … nothing," I sighed, shaking my head.  
  
"What does he need with a test taster?" Ron asked.  
  
"Taste tester, honey," Hermione corrected.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Malfoy's up to something," I thought aloud.  
  
"What if …" my informant began, leaning back in my chair, and biting his lower lip as he mulled these things over in his noodle.  
  
Ron and I waited for him to continue, but he didn't.  
  
"What are you thinking, Neville?" Ron wanted to know.  
  
"Why would a bubbly pop manufacturer want information from an chocolate milk tester …" Neville began.  
  
"… unless he wants him to …" Ron continued.  
  
"… taste test chocolate flavored bubbly pop," I finished.  
  
The three of us let this sink in for a moment.  
  
Hermione made a face.  
  
"Chocolate flavored bubbly pop?"  
  
"He's a Malfoy," Ron interjected. "They're all a bit touched in the head."  
  
"You're a good man, Neville. I should hire you full-time," I said, patting my friend on the back. Color rose in his rounded-cheeks.  
  
"Oh, thanks, Harry."  
  
Seamus burst through the door and pointed a finger at me.  
  
"You promised me that if I helped you out, you wouldn't let them get to me. They got to me, Potter," he accused.  
  
"We haven't asked you for help yet, Seamus," Ron stated, quirking an eyebrow at the fuming Irishman.  
  
"But I was going to if you asked and they found me, and you did nothing to protect me."  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
"From what? Flobberworms?"  
  
"You knew about the flobberworms and you still did nothing?!"  
  
"Seamus, old man, it's alright," I tried.  
  
"It's anything but alright! I could have died!"  
  
"When?"  
  
"He came after me."  
  
"A flobberworm?" Neville asked.  
  
"The Russian on the corner!"  
  
Ron, Hermione and I threw him a collective frown.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The Russian on the corner beat me up."  
  
"I thought Malfoy beat you up," Ron said.  
  
Seamus paled.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
Finnegan's behaviour suddenly changed.  
  
"Yeah, well, no harm done, really. Just a bruise, see? Er, uh, see you around Harry. Ron. Neville. Miss Granger," Seamus said quickly, heading out the door.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley!" Ron corrected as the door slammed.  
  
I sat on the edge of my desk and all three faces turned to me.  
  
"Something screwy is definitely going on in this town."  
  
"Do you have something for me to do?" Neville asked, popping something into his mouth.  
  
"Follow Seamus around a little bit, but be careful. You got smarts on him, but he's quicker. If he sees you, duck out and don't worry about it. Just find out what you can and get back to me."  
  
"Gotcha, Harry."  
  
Neville's excitement at being useful was evident as he stood and floated to the door.  
  
Floated to the door?  
  
"Hey, I want one," Ron exclaimed and Neville tossed him a levitating sherbet ball.  
  
"Want one?" he offered. Hermione and I declined and he winked as he directed himself out the door.  
  
"So, Harry?" Ron asked, munching happily on the charmed sweet.  
  
I looked at him as I sat down.  
  
"Are you going to try to get Ginny to sleep with you?" he asked, rising a couple inches out of his chair.  
  
I merely smiled and looked away from him, my gaze lingering a second too long on his desk.  
  
Ron made a face and pushed himself away from it quickly when he realized what I'd done.  
  
"That is all kinds of wrong!" he declared, looking sick. "I can't believe you!"  
  
"Don't worry, Ron. Ginny never touched the desk."  
  
Hermione gasped.  
  
Apparently, that was the answer that was going to make me bleed. 


	5. July 24: Revelations

Note:  
  
Lolua: P.I. Potter mentions in Chapter 3 that Ovaltine is muggle, and yes there are muggles … They intermingle with them, but not often. There are subtle references here and there to muggle technology. (I couldn't dispense with mine own kind so easily.) Thanks for your reviews, they're very insightful.  
  
Eat Paper, Slim Shady, & Chocolate and Cinnamon – Thanks for checking in. Hope I can keep you interested.  
  
COUSIN: I've forgotten my trench coat!  
  
PS: Don't question the pauses … This is only a PG-13.  
  
July 24: Revelations  
  
  
  
Taking a drag off my cigarette, I pondered the day's events and tried to sort through them. I left soon after my jaw found Ron's right hook and went straight home, bypassing the Forge for the first time in a long time. My mouth wasn't closing properly and I didn't know if I wanted to pay for firewhiskey, only to have it dribble down my chin.  
  
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that you shouldn't smoke in bed?"  
  
I exhaled slowly and smiled. She had been at my apartment when I got home.  
  
"Yeah, there was this girl I used to know that would tell me that all the time," I remarked.  
  
"Smart girl. If you insist on smoking while still under the covers, the least you could do is share," she told me, pulling herself up against the headboard next to me. I held out the cigarette to her. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Not at all, Miss Weasley."  
  
Ginny quirked an eyebrow and blew the smoke from the corner of her mouth.  
  
"I didn't get a chance to ask you; how was work before my brother beat you up?"  
  
"Went well, actually," I replied, reaching a hand to my chin and stretching my jaw a little.  
  
"For being so distraught over the punch, your mouth seemed to be working fine to me."  
  
I smirked and took the cigarette back, taking a final draw before putting it out in the ashtray on the night table.  
  
"Have you just given me your stamp of approval?" I inquired, looking at her.  
  
"No, I did that last night," she muttered, scooting a little closer to me.  
  
"Why couldn't you say anything at Deano's?"  
  
"I have to make you work for some things."  
  
I frowned.  
  
"So … all of this …" I gestured vaguely at the two of us, "… is me working for information?"  
  
"Did I say that?"  
  
"In so many words."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
I started to answer, but stopped, choosing to think for a moment. It shouldn't have bothered me. She was just my girl of the week.  
  
No.  
  
No, she wasn't and never has been.  
  
She was Ginny.  
  
"Harry Potter? Speechless?" she said, laughingly, turning to look up at me. I quickly regained my composure and winked.  
  
"I was just making sure I heard you right," I lied. "So, chocolate bubbly pop?"  
  
"Can you believe that?" she scoffed, reclaiming her place against my shoulder. "But that's his way. If there's a knut to be made, he'll do whatever he can to get that knut."  
  
"Sounds like Malfoy."  
  
"He's not that bad, really, Harry."  
  
I made a face.  
  
"He's not," she insisted. "Or he wasn't, anyway. I think he's been allowing Lucius a bit too much control in some things."  
  
Oh, really?  
  
"Interesting," I thought aloud.  
  
"Maybe I've said too much for now …" Ginny whispered, biting the tip of one index finger while her other hand found my thigh.  
  
  
  
"Lucius has been making … executive decisions, let's say, without Draco knowing about them," she explained, propping her head up in her hand. I did the same and took a deep breath.  
  
She wasted no time in getting back to business.  
  
"How do you know about this?"  
  
"I've heard things from underlings. Errand boys who don't know how to hold their tongue."  
  
I raised my eyebrows inquisitively and she smirked.  
  
"Don't worry, Potter. There was no innuendo there."  
  
"Thankfully."  
  
"I found one in the archive office a couple weeks ago and he told me he was under orders from Master Malfoy."  
  
I snorted at Lucius' title of choice.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said. However, another one was there last week as well. Both were snooping around in the flavor files."  
  
"Do you think they found what they were looking for?"  
  
"Draco has yet to document any of his cocoa commentaries, so, no, I don't think so."  
  
"What were you doing in the archive office?"  
  
She shrugged and hummed a little with a look of feigned innocence.  
  
  
  
"I was doing a little spy work of my own," Ginny continued, holding out her hand and helping me back into the bed. "Two years in your company taught me a few things."  
  
"I'm glad I could help you out," I grimaced, popping my neck.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Just a little stiff, that's all."  
  
"Already?" she asked, playfully.  
  
I chuckled and bit my lip.  
  
"My neck. Please continue."  
  
"Right. I wasn't there for flavor findings. I was going through employee dossiers. That's when I found out about Seamus."  
  
"I thought Seamus worked for Ovaltine."  
  
"Does the term double agent mean anything to you?"  
  
"You mean a mole. I'm not a secret agent … I'm a private investigator."  
  
"I thought you were a private dick."  
  
I inhaled sharply when she touched me.  
  
"I thought it was your neck."  
  
  
  
As I gasped for breath, I began to think that I wasn't going to make it through the night alive. However, she was beginning to look tired, so maybe I would be alright. Not that I was complaining.  
  
"Seamus is working for Albie, too," I told her when I found air.  
  
For once, Ginny seemed surprised.  
  
"At least he's supposed to be," I added.  
  
"I think he's Lucius' man," she spoke up finally.  
  
"So 'Master Malfoy' sent him to Ovaltine to get insider information on chocolate drinks."  
  
Ginny yawned, but nodded her acquiescence.  
  
"Seamus is then sent to keep an eye on me?"  
  
My bedmate thought this over for a minute.  
  
"Why, though? Why you?"  
  
"I was hoping you could answer that."  
  
"I can't."  
  
It was my turn to think.  
  
"Maybe my recent appearances at Serpensmordre made him anxious."  
  
Ginny turned a scrutinizing eye on me.  
  
"Just a couple, and who's to say they were anything more than window shopping?"  
  
Her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Were they?"  
  
Ah, the valley of decision. I'd been there before and usually left with a black eye or a foot up my backside.  
  
"No," I answered, opting to try a new route through the vale, hoping that, this time, my souvenir would be a t-shirt or tacky coffee mug.  
  
She seemed stunned for a moment.  
  
"You just risked your reputation to tell the truth."  
  
I wanted to crack wise, but wisdom eluded me.  
  
She kissed me.  
  
"Maybe I should go now," she whispered, looking away. "My, uh … he … er … my …"  
  
"Draco?" I offered.  
  
"Yes, Draco, may begin to worry."  
  
"Maybe so," I agreed, though the slight waver in my voice betrayed me.  
  
She turned back to me.  
  
"Let him worry."  
  
  
  
I fell heavily onto the bed.  
  
Ginny giggled a little.  
  
"I think I've thrown my back out," I commented, staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Then I guess it is time for me to leave. I think we're out of information anyway."  
  
"Among other things."  
  
She laughed wryly and I managed to prop myself up on my elbows.  
  
"Are you really going to leave?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, she nodded.  
  
"It's probably better that way. Draco will ask questions if I'm missing overnight," she said, leaving the bed and retrieving her clothes.  
  
I sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for my pants.  
  
"He won't question your absence of the past several hours?"  
  
"It's only been a few. I'm confident his father has provided ample entertainment."  
  
"He's there when you're what's waiting for him at home?"  
  
"I wasn't waiting for him today, was I?"  
  
I smiled.  
  
No, she wasn't.  
  
She was waiting for me.  
  
"Hey, Gin?" I called, standing and following her out of the room.  
  
"Yes, Harry?" she replied, her hand on the door to leave.  
  
"You really haven't heard anything about flobberworms?"  
  
She laughed and shook her head.  
  
"No, I haven't."  
  
I couldn't help but laugh with her. She stepped to me and kissed me.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," Ginny promised, leaving me standing breathless and shirtless in the doorway.  
  
"Sounds like you've had quite an evening," a dreamy voice echoed from the stairwell a few moments later.  
  
I chuckled and walked to the stairs. Luna was waiting at the bottom with a sly smile playing on her lips.  
  
"Where's Neville?" I inquired, sitting on the top stair.  
  
"He owled saying he'd be out late. I figured you'd know more than me."  
  
"I haven't seen him since this afternoon, but you know he can't stay away from you for too long, Luna," I smiled.  
  
"No, and it seems that two years was enough for Ginny," she smirked, eyebrow arched.  
  
"Goodnight, Luna," I said, standing and walking back to my room.  
  
"Goodnight, Harry." 


	6. July 25: The Morning After

July 25: The Morning After  
  
  
  
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I noticed was the lack of haziness on the edges of my vision. I hadn't woken up without some form of a hangover in months; years, even. Then I remembered why I wasn't drunk the night before and grinned, jumping out of bed. Immediately, I fell over with a howl of pain and cursed the seductress that made my evening grin-worthy and found myself grinning all over again.  
  
I managed to crawl to the living room, though this proved to be a fruitless endeavor seeing as I didn't have the nerve to go outside of my apartment in my current attire; or lack thereof, rather. So I crawled back to my room and, miraculously, dressed myself quite nicely. Struggling back to the living room, I made my way to the front door. I fumbled around for the door handle, seeing as I couldn't look to find it and crawled into the corridor.  
  
Once at the stairwell, I saw feet on the lower landing.  
  
I knew those feet.  
  
"Neville! Help an old friend out!" I called.  
  
"Harry?" he said, looking up the stairs at me with wide eyes.  
  
"Got a bit of back problem," I explained as he came to my side. Luna appeared at the bottom of the stairs, snapping her gum. I was not ready for her yet this morning  
  
"I must remember to commend Ginny are her ability to ground the almighty Harry Potter," she smirked, puffing on a cigarette. How she could chew gum and smoke at the same time was beyond me.  
  
"You have a loose curl, Luna," I told her, as Neville took hold of me. The woman quickly ran into her apartment and I chuckled before letting off a string of curses as Neville pulled me upright.   
  
"Sorry, Harry," the shorter man said, supporting me so I wouldn't fall over.  
  
"Had to happen," I supposed, stretching a little and standing on my own. Neville hovered for a moment to make sure I was okay. "I'm fine, Neville, now that I'm standing."  
  
He nodded, and I motioned for him to follow me back to my apartment, but stopped just as I made it to the door.  
  
"Or are you busy downstairs?" I asked with a smirk. "I do remember the time she made me straighten you out."  
  
He blushed a little and cleared his throat.  
  
"She's learned when to quit before I hurt myself."  
  
"Broads these days," I chuckled and sighed. "Not being able to move in the morning is half the fun."  
  
"What can you do? Can't live with them; can't live without him."  
  
"So true. Have a seat, pal," I offered, gesturing at the couch. He gladly accepted and cracked his neck. "Aha."  
  
Neville looked at me with a faint smile, his head still tilted to one side.  
  
"The floor?"  
  
I nodded slowly and agreed, "The floor."  
  
"I swear, they must coordinate their attacks," he grimaced, his head upright again.  
  
"I think there's a scheduler somewhere that they refer to."  
  
He laughed, "You should have warned me since Ginny got to you first."  
  
"I would have but you weren't around when she left."  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Neville tipped his newsboys hat back a little. "Finnegan."  
  
I sat down behind the small desk along the back wall and grabbed a quill.  
  
"Lay it on me, Neville."  
  
"It took me a little time to find him after he left yours, but I saw him coming out of Serpensmordre ten minutes later."  
  
"Surprise, surprise," I muttered, jotting this down.  
  
"Then he went to talk to Albie. It was a little easier to keep my eyes and ears on him there, seeing as I had some things to do around the newspaper office."  
  
"Do you think Seamus knew you were watching him?"  
  
"No, he was too busy with the Russian on the corner bit."  
  
I frowned.  
  
"Why does he keep pointing the finger at that poor man?"  
  
"If I remember your notes correctly, you said Draco didn't know about the flobberworms and they got into an altercation, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"If a guy's going to talk and start pointing fingers, you shut him up, right? And I'm sure we both know how Lucius 'shut him up'."  
  
"This is true. But why the Russian on the corner?"  
  
"He openly deals in flobberworms. He's probably just a random scapegoat; wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"All this over chocolate bubbly pop?"  
  
Neville shook his head.  
  
"Oh, by the way, Harry."  
  
I looked up at him.  
  
"I'm supposed to ask you if you heard anything or found out something about …"  
  
"No. I haven't, sorry."  
  
"No skin off my back."  
  
Looking at the clock on my desk, I sighed and stood up.  
  
"We'd best get to the office," I told him, going to my room to retrieve my hat. "Hermione will go nuts if we're late."  
  
"We?"  
  
Realization of what I said hit me as I walked back into the living room, but I just smiled.  
  
"Yeah, we."  
  
Neville seemed to swell with pride and followed me to the door.  
  
"Do you want your trench coat, Harry?" he asked as I exited.  
  
"No, it's too much of a hassle to carry around during the day," I explained as he stepped out behind me and I locked the door.  
  
Ron and Hermione weren't there yet when we got to the office. I went to the window and called for Hedwig who promptly flew in and landed on my desk where I was scribbling a note to Dumbledore.  
  
"Take this to Albie," I told my snowy owl. She nipped at my finger and left with a hoot. I stood in a corner of the office and contemplated the layout, tapping a finger on my lips. "Where to add a desk …"  
  
Neville watched in awe as I took my wand from my jacket pocket and began moving mine and Ron's desks apart.  
  
"What's this?" Ron asked as he came in with Hermione a few moments later.  
  
"I'm giving Neville a desk," I answered, still unsure of where the third desk was going to go.  
  
Hermione went to Neville and hugged him.  
  
"I'm so happy for you. It'll be good to have a new face around here all the time."  
  
"But he still works for the paper," Ron put in, frowning and standing in the new space between his desk and my own. Hedwig returned and I took her letter.  
  
"Not anymore," I said, reading Dumbledore's reply.  
  
"I don't?" Neville asked, coming to my side.  
  
"Well, you do and you don't. It's up to you when you come in, either here or there. Dumbledore gives his congratulations."  
  
Neville took the letter and slouched against the window ledge. I wrote out another letter to the furniture store down the block and sent Hedwig out again. Ron grabbed my arm and pulled me into the back room as Hermione called Neville to the front door.  
  
"You couldn't even ask me before hiring new people?" he asked, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Last time I asked you before I hired someone new, you worked late for two weeks 'interviewing' her and 'showing her the ropes'."  
  
Ron smiled, "Hermione's a little different than Neville. He's just an informant."  
  
"He thinks quicker than I do," I replied.  
  
"But I liked how our desks were. It gave me a sense of unity; toe-to-toe in the office, but side-by-side in the world, you know?"  
  
I quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"You're fussing because I separated our workstations? Oh, for the love of God, Ron, be a man," I scolded, stepping out of the office to find our desks back together and Neville arranging things on a new desk against the far wall.   
  
"When did that get here?"  
  
Ron took his place behind his desk, reached out and patted mine.   
  
"Hedwig returned with it, shrunken and in a box tied to her leg. I used an engorging charm to make it usable," Hermione informed me.  
  
"They're shrinking them now? They floated ours up the stairs, didn't they?" Ron asked, still admiring the closeness of our desks. I rolled my eyes and took my chair.  
  
"Is it to your liking, Neville?" I asked.  
  
"More so, even."  
  
"I even added his name to the door," Hermione declared motioning at the frosted glass on the door. You could faintly make out a third name below mine and Ron's.  
  
"I told her not to," Neville interjected suddenly. "I'm just an informant, not a detective."  
  
"Come off it, Neville. You're more than an informant," Ron told him, spinning in his chair to look at our new coworker. I seemed to remember Ron saying the opposite only moments before, but smiled at his sudden change of opinion.  
  
Neville smiled a little.  
  
"Thanks, Ron."  
  
Hermione looked at her husband proudly before picking up her handbag.  
  
"Coffee?" she asked.  
  
Three hands raised.  
  
"Raising two hands will only get you one, Ron," Hermione laughed.  
  
"You want anything, Neville?"  
  
"I can get my own," he said quietly.  
  
"Nonsense. I'm the secretary. It's my job to go get things for you."  
  
I looked up at her, astonished.  
  
"Don't even say it, Harry," Ron warned, shaking his head a little. Hermione smirked at me and turned back to Neville.  
  
"Would you like something?"  
  
"Coffee, black."  
  
"All you private eyes are the same," she remarked, leaving.  
  
Ron smiled and patted him on the shoulder.  
  
"Neville Longbottom, Private Eye … Nice ring to it, I think," the red-head commented.  
  
Neville was positively beaming when he turned back to his desk.  
  
  
  
"How do you know that Seamus is working for Lucius? Neville never said that," Ron cut in as the three of us spun lazily in our chairs.  
  
I could pull a Dumbledore and be vague, but telling the truth didn't hurt me last night.  
  
"Ginny told me," I answered.  
  
Ron stopped spinning, eyebrow arched and making a face.  
  
"When did she tell you this?"  
  
"Last evening."  
  
Neville smirked and continued to spin.  
  
"Did you meet her somewhere?"  
  
"She was waiting for me at my apartment when I got home."  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes and Hermione looked up from her desk.  
  
"Did she stay long?"  
  
I was beginning to think that I was going to bleed again, but if today went as well as yesterday after I bled, I wouldn't mind so much. Stealing a glance at Neville, I saw him biting his lip to keep from smiling.  
  
"A few hours, I'd say."  
  
"You and Ginny were civil to one another long enough to have a conversation that lasted a few hours?"  
  
I refused to smile.  
  
"Five, actually."  
  
Ron looked confused.  
  
"Five? Hours or conversations?"  
  
"Conversations."  
  
Neville snorted and put his head down on his desk, shoulders shaking. Hermione gasped and went back to work. Understanding washed over his face and Ron leaned back far in his chair as he whistled long and low.  
  
"She didn't stay overnight?"  
  
"No. She is rather bound to a certain bubbly pop manufacturer."  
  
"She left you for him. Why can't she leave him for you?"  
  
"I'd never ask her to do that," I said quietly, picking up my quill and turning my focus to a piece of parchment on my desk. There was a 'clack' as Ron put his chair forward again to study me closely.  
  
"What do you mean, you'd never ask her to do that?"  
  
"Hermione was right. I can't give her what he can."  
  
"But you'll screw around with her on the side?"  
  
"Wouldn't dream of doing anything else," I smiled.  
  
Ron and Hermione sighed and Neville laughed out loud, his head still resting on his forearm.  
  
"Can we please discuss something other than Ginny?" I asked, clearing my throat and tapping the quill feather on the parchment.  
  
There was a knock on the door. The four of us looked to the door to see the hazy outline of a fedora-capped man. Hermione stood and opened the door.  
  
"Still stuck together at the hip, I see," Draco said, stepping into the room as he smoothed the front of his cobalt blue suit coat. "Though," he started, eyeing Neville, "I don't remember you being much more than an errand boy last time I came by."  
  
"I don't remember you being conscious very long the last time you came by," Ron told him.  
  
Draco sneered and took a step toward my desk.  
  
"I have business to discuss with Potter. Is there somewhere we can talk?"  
  
"Please, Draco, there's a couch in the back; have a seat," I offered, standing and following him into the back room. Ron started to stand, but I told him to stay where we was as I shut the door.  
  
"My, my, Harry. Leather, even," the blond commented, sitting down gracefully. "And comfortable."  
  
"Oh, yes, it's been a dear friend through the years," I smirked, pulling a chair over to sit across from him. "So what are we talking about this time, Malfoy, old pal?"  
  
Draco quirked an eyebrow at me.  
  
"You must understand that I would never come to you under normal circumstances, but I believe you may be the only one I can go to in this particular situation."  
  
"It must be one hell of a situation."  
  
"You haven't any clue."  
  
"So clue me in, Draco. What's going on?"  
  
My guest took off his shining white fedora and set it on the couch next to him, learning forward, elbows on his knees.  
  
"I know you and I have had some … problems in the past."  
  
"So let's leave them there," I interrupted, not wanting to discuss Ginny with him either.  
  
He smiled faintly and went on.  
  
"I think my father is trying to do me in."  
  
Ah, I see.  
  
"Physically or financially?"  
  
"Both, if he can manage it."  
  
Oh, really?  
  
"Why are you coming to me?"  
  
"Word is you've been visiting his place recently. He wouldn't suspect you, especially not on business from me."  
  
This is true.  
  
"What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Well … before I saw that he'd been promoted, I wanted you to send Longbottom after him."  
  
"He's still the best sneak on the streets," I said.  
  
"That's good to know."  
  
"If you wanted Neville, why do you need me?"  
  
"I want you both. Neville can sneak better than you can. I want you to show yourself at Serpensmordre, and I want Longbottom to follow after him in the shadows. Hear the things that you can't. Father seems to think you've quite changed since … before."  
  
"So what am I looking for?"  
  
"I thought he was working with me, but I've found he's working against me. I don't have any kind of proof of this. That's what you're looking for. Find out who he's got working for him; what he's trying to get his hands on."  
  
Ginny hadn't even told Draco what she knew. I almost smiled, but refrained.  
  
"I don't work for free," I reminded him.  
  
Draco leaned back in his chair and eyed me suspiciously.  
  
"Maybe it's time to address those problems from our past."  
  
"I'd rather not."  
  
"I know for a fact Ginny came by here a couple days ago."  
  
I nodded my assent.  
  
"And that she had breakfast with you yesterday."  
  
Again, I nodded.  
  
He paused and thought for a moment.  
  
"I'll pay you for your services. What would you say to 2,000 galleons to not see her again?"  
  
I feigned contemplation.  
  
"That sounds like a lot of money."  
  
"5,000."  
  
"That sounds better."  
  
I smiled and we stood, exiting the room.  
  
"I'll have that delivered sometime today," Draco said as he left.  
  
"I'll be here all day."  
  
Once the door was shut, three sets of eyes turned to me.  
  
"What was that all about?" Ron wanted to know.  
  
"We've got a job," was my answer.  
  
"But we've got one already, don't we?" Neville asked.  
  
"Now we've got one with pay," came the reply.  
  
"How much?" Hermione inquired, though her question came as a result of keeping records.  
  
"100 galleons a day, plus 5000 extra if I don't see Ginny ever again."  
  
Ron choked on his coffee, Neville, who had bent to pick up a piece of parchment, fell out of his chair, and Hermione broke her quill.  
  
"WHAT?!" echoed from all three of them.  
  
"I kid you not," I informed them, sitting back in my chair. "What's interesting, is that he was actually coming more for Neville than me."  
  
Ron seemed to be about to argue as Neville picked himself up and dusted off his trousers, replacing his hat on his head.  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"He'd heard of your ability to sneak. Needed keen ears in the shadows."  
  
"That would be Neville," Ron agreed.  
  
"Should I be somewhere then?" asked Neville.  
  
"We don't start until he brings his down payment," I declared.  
  
"Are you really not going to see Ginny?" Ron queried.  
  
I scoffed, "Are you kidding me? Five thousand galleons isn't worth it."  
  
Ron smiled at me. 


	7. July 25: Venom and Firewhiskey

July 25: Venom and Firewhiskey  
  
  
  
On a whim, I sent Hedwig to the apartment to head Ginny off in case she came back. I explained the situation and told her I'd be late. She could wait for me if she so desired, but I wouldn't ask her to. Neville and I left Ron and Hermione at the office at six and I marveled at how Neville had disappeared before we made it to the exit.  
  
Alone, I wandered into Serpensmordre, and sat at the bar. Flint flashed his sickly teeth in what I assumed to be a smile and set a tumbler on the counter in front of me.  
  
"Same as always, Scarhead?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. When I was a year old, my Dad's best friend dropped me into a crate of pre-adolescent blast-ended skrewts and I'd been caught in the forehead by one of their blasts. A little lightning bolt above my right eye was my souvenir from the impromptu rendezvous and I would never live it down.  
  
"Just one tonight, Marky," I told the barman.  
  
"It's Marcus," he growled, filling my glass.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter," someone greeted from behind me.  
  
"Lucius! Just the man I wanted to see."  
  
"Shall tonight be the night you make your membership official? Lavender has had her eyes on you for quite some time," the older man commented, motioning vaguely at one of his employees who was making eyes at me in such a way, I thought they'd fall out of her head.  
  
"You know me, Lucius. I just like to look."  
  
He smirked and nodded.  
  
"As you wish, Harry," he said, bowing away.  
  
"Thanks," I muttered, taking a sip of my firewhiskey. It hit me a little harder than I was expecting it to and I coughed and spluttered. Or maybe it was Ginny and Draco ascending the stairway along the far wall that took me by surprise. They were heading to one of the 'suites', I could tell, though Draco didn't seem willing to wait until his got there. He had her pushed up against a wall and I took pride in the fact that she seemed rather bored with it all.  
  
Her eyes met mine.  
  
  
  
'What are you doing here?'  
  
  
  
I wiggled the glass in my fingers and glanced lazily around the room at the various women.  
  
  
  
'Working.'  
  
  
  
Ginny smiled a little at me before frowning at whatever Draco had just whispered in her ear. She looked back to me with a pointed expression.  
  
  
  
'You'd better be at home when I get there.'  
  
  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
  
  
'Wouldn't miss it for 5000 galleons.'  
  
  
  
She made a face.  
  
  
  
'Only 5000?'  
  
  
  
I chuckled and she turned Draco around so he was against the wall, pushing herself away from him a little. He saw me and smirked as she took hold of his tie and pulled him onto the landing and out of sight.  
  
"Hope that doesn't ruin your visit," Lucius intoned, quirking an eyebrow at me. I hadn't realized he'd came back.  
  
"Not at all," I smiled, taking my drink and making my way to the viewing rooms, which happened to be just below the 'suites'. Finding an empty room, I handed six sickles to the attendant and he pulled the blinds up. I proceeded to drink my whiskey and stare blankly at the woman on the other side of the glass. I had no interest in her whatsoever and wasn't even paying attention. The chandelier that hung above my head began to shake and swing and my mind strayed to Ginny and Draco.  
  
I shuddered involuntarily as the attendant shut the blinds.  
  
I handed him another six sickles and he reopened them, the girl continuing with her show.  
  
Voices could be heard from the room above us and the attendant shook his head.  
  
"Stupid leprechaun couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life were on the line."  
  
I looked at him inquisitively.  
  
"Leprechaun?"  
  
"Jumpy, funny-looking Irish lad. Little guy. Always got chocolate on his upper lip and whining about flobberworms. He comes in all the time."  
  
So Lucius was taking care of Seamus.  
  
"Does he talk to anyone? Or just get straight to it?"  
  
The girl on the other side pounded on the glass to get focus back on her, but the attendant just responded by shutting the blinds.  
  
"Talks to Master Malfoy sometimes, but never for long. You know, he was getting the best of the best women we got, but now he's been settling for …" The man snapped his fingers. "She's got a younger sister that looks just like her."  
  
"Parvati?"  
  
"That's her. I can never get their names straight."  
  
Another thud sounded on the other side of the glass, but I ignored it, standing and starting for the door.  
  
"Thanks again, Fudge," I said as I left.  
  
Cornelius waved and bowed, "Anytime, Mr. Potter."  
  
I glanced quickly around the room and was surprised to the see the bespectacled girl with the notebook on my first pass, but wasn't surprised to see that she had again vanished by the time my eyes swept the room a second time. Another face I did not see was 'Master' Malfoy's and I started for the door hoping to make a getaway without him seeing.  
  
"Ah, Harry. Leaving so soon?"  
  
No luck.  
  
"The night is far from over, Lucius. I do have a job to do somewhere, I'm sure. The woes of being a private detective," I joked.  
  
"I hope your visit was sufficient."  
  
"It's gets better every time."  
  
Lucius smiled and I turned to leave.  
  
"Very well, then, Mr. Potter. Your pleasure is mine," he called as I stepped outside. It had gotten quite cold and I suddenly found myself wishing for my trench coat, despite the hassle it was. From habit, I looked up and down the street and noted the party-goers heading into the Forge. Fred and George probably thought I was dead. I didn't show up yesterday, and wasn't going to today, either.  
  
Shivering, I pulled my jacket in tighter and started for my apartment. I had meant to walk, casual and cool, seeing as it's not the way of a private eye to run, but found that I was running. Just as I realized I was running, my feet got tangled in something and I tripped and fell.  
  
"What the …" I muttered angrily as I reached to free myself from my captor. It was my trench coat. Grumbling, I put it on and decided not to think about it. Stranger things have happened, I supposed as I proceeded to walk casually to my building.  
  
Luna was waiting in the doorway of her apartment, snapping her gum, when I passed by on the way to the stairwell.  
  
"Neville will probably be late again," I told her, stopping for only a moment, I hoped.  
  
"Yeah, I heard you've given him a desk," she said, smiling. "That means a lot to him. He really looks up to you, you know, Harry."  
  
I was taken aback at her demeanor, but shook my head, "It should be the other way around. He's a better person than I'll ever be."  
  
"Do you offer benefits for the families of employees? Compensation, if you will, when they have to work late?" she smirked.  
  
There was the Luna I knew.  
  
"Nope, sorry," I said over my shoulder as I walked away.  
  
Luna just laughed and I heard her door shut as I reached the third floor landing. Unlocking my door, I stepped into my apartment.  
  
And, soon, found my back pressed against the door, my mouth engaged in a kiss.  
  
"Take it off, take it off, take it off," Ginny demanded quickly, pulling away and helping me remove my trench coat, jacket and tie. She grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me into my room and on top of her on the bed.  
  
I started to say something, but she kissed me again, unbuttoning my shirt.  
  
"I don't even get a 'hello' anymore," I finally managed, when she pushed me back onto my haunches and sat up, tossing my shirt to side.  
  
"I don't have a lot of time," she informed me, clawing at my belt. She growled in exasperation and pulled out her wand.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I exclaimed, stopping her. "I've got it from here, doll baby."  
  
"Don't call me that. Draco calls me that. And I want you, not Draco."  
  
"Fair enough," I mumbled, tossing my belt aside and starting to remove my hat.  
  
"No," she interjected, placing a hand on my arm. "Leave the hat."  
  
This was going to be interesting.  
  
  
  
"You're leaving?" I asked, as she quickly redressed and started for the door. I took my boxers from the lamp in the corner and followed her into the living room.  
  
"I told you I didn't have a lot of time."  
  
"Why? What's going on?"  
  
"Lucius called him for a meeting as soon as we got into the room. I came straight here. Had you been here like I told you to be, we could have had a little more fun."  
  
"I told you I was working," I explained.  
  
"And I have things to do as well," she said, turning to the door.  
  
"Why?" I asked, and frowned for doing so.  
  
Ginny stopped and looked at me.  
  
"What do you mean why?"  
  
"Why do you have to go back to him?"  
  
"Because he's my fiancé, Harry." She tried to sound confident in her reply, but I seemed to have posed a very good question.  
  
"Fine, Ginny," I sighed. " Do what you have to do. Will I see you tomorrow?"  
  
"As long as you don't work late," she smirked. 


	8. July 26: Wake Up Calls On The Off Day

July 26: Wake Up Calls On The Off Day  
  
  
  
Her arm was draped across my stomach and she was fluttering light kisses on my shoulder when I opened my eyes.  
  
"Are you awake?" she asked quietly, in between kisses.  
  
"I don't know," I answered honestly.  
  
I could feel her smile, "What do you mean you don't know?"  
  
"You're here. I must be dreaming."  
  
"If you're dreaming, then I am."  
  
"Is it a good dream?" I wondered.  
  
"Oh, very," was her reply.  
  
"This is definitely a dream."  
  
She laughed and snuggled closer, wrapping a leg around mine and moving her kisses to my chest.  
  
"These past couple years have been a blur for you haven't they?" Ginny inquired and I looked at the top of her head.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"When was the last time you had a chocolate frog?"  
  
I furrowed my brow, slightly confused.  
  
"Er, uh, it's been awhile."  
  
"I can tell."  
  
"How?"  
  
She stopped kissing and rested her chin on my chest to look up at me.  
  
"You used to eat sweets all the time when we were younger and you tasted like chocolate."  
  
I raised my eyebrows.  
  
"I used to taste like chocolate? You mean my mouth?"  
  
"I mean everywhere."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"But you don't anymore," she said, returning to her kisses.  
  
"What do I taste like now?"  
  
"Firewhiskey. It's like it's burned into your skin."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
"Oh, no," she breathed. "It's quite nice actually, but you must have spent two years in a drunken stupor."  
  
I nodded, "I did."  
  
I nudged her gently, asking her to move so I could roll up on my side. She quirked an eyebrow at me.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Can't I just want to sleep next to you?"  
  
"No," I smiled. "Especially not after leaving in such a hurry last night. What about Draco?"  
  
She sighed a little and seemed to be figuring out how to say what was on her mind.  
  
"He wants to leave again."  
  
My heart, which had been soaring for the past couple of days, plummeted.  
  
"You're leaving?"  
  
"Draco wants me to. What do you think I should do?"  
  
"I think you should do what you think is best."  
  
"What do you want me to do, Harry?"  
  
She just had to say my name.  
  
"I want you to do whatever you want to do."  
  
Ginny bit her lip and looked away.  
  
"What if I told you I wanted to stay here?" she whispered.  
  
My heart gathered a glimmer of hope and struggled to hold on to it.  
  
"Here in town?" I tried.  
  
"I was thinking more along the lines of here in this apartment; together like we used to be."  
  
My heart rocketed into my throat and I kissed her.  
  
Ginny smiled at me and I moved to cover her body with mine. She winced a little.  
  
"What is it?" I asked, pulling back and observing her.  
  
"I twisted my back when I was here last night and the crick reminds me of it's presence every now and then," she told me.  
  
"Lay on your stomach," I commanded and she shook her head.  
  
"You don't have to do that, Harry."  
  
"You can't have all the fun. Roll over, baby."  
  
She did and I maneuvered so that I was resting lightly on her backside, my knees on either side. Folding her arms under her head she laid her cheek on her forearms, eyes closed as my fingertips danced up the length of her spine.  
  
"I meant to ask; when did you start wearing boxers to bed?" she queried, with a playful smile.  
  
"When it became evident that I wasn't going to wake up and need to be without them," I replied, using my palms to massage just below her shoulder blades.  
  
"Lower."  
  
I adjusted.  
  
"To the right," she added.  
  
"Here?"  
  
"There."  
  
"I haven't done this in awhile. I'll apologize now if I'm a little rusty."  
  
"You're doing wonderfully," she cooed, squirming a little. "With hands like those, I could very easily fall in love with you, Mr. Potter."  
  
I smiled and continued my ministrations.  
  
"You're already in love with me, Miss Weasley," I ventured.  
  
"This is true."  
  
My heart seized up and I found breathing to be difficult, but this didn't affect my work.  
  
"You need to speed up this little rub-down," she said, catching my attention again.  
  
"Why would I do that?"  
  
She rolled so she was on her back and took my hands.  
  
"I'm no longer interested in your hands."  
  
  
  
I held her close to me, not wanting to let go for fear she might leave again. Though, I knew she wouldn't. Ginny had come home like I always hoped she would.  
  
"I do love you, Harry," she had whispered into my ear only moments ago and I never wanted to be without her again.  
  
"I love you, too, Ginny," I said quietly and she leaned her head back to look at me.  
  
"I'm glad it's Sunday," she remarked. "You don't have to go anywhere."  
  
"And I don't get visitors."  
  
As if on cue, someone pounded on the door.  
  
"Don't answer it. They'll leave."  
  
"I wasn't planning on it," I murmured, kissing her cheek.  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
The voice was very familiar, and we both tensed.  
  
"What's he doing here?" Ginny asked me quietly.  
  
"I don't know," I answered, still not letting go. "Don't worry, Gin, no magic can break that door."  
  
There was the sound of more pounding and then the recognizable noise of my door being kicked in.  
  
"But there is that," I grumbled, letting her go and pulling my pants on. "Under the covers with you."  
  
Ginny hid from view and I stumbled out into the living room, shutting the door behind me, hoping I looked drunk and disheveled.  
  
"I think there's been miscommunication somewhere," Draco said, stretching his neck a little and motioning for his henchmen to wait for him outside.  
  
"So nice of you to come in," I greeted, sitting down behind my desk. "Tea?"  
  
"No, thanks."  
  
"Have a seat," I offered but he declined, moving to stand in front of my desk. "What's this miscommunication then?"  
  
"You're not even going to put a shirt on for this meeting?"  
  
"No, I plan on going back to bed. Make it quick, if you could."  
  
"What? Potter's got a girlfriend?"  
  
"We're not here to talk about my personal life."  
  
"Can I see?" he prodded, moving toward the bedroom.  
  
I bolted out of my seat and grabbed his arm.  
  
"No, you can't see. If you want to peep at random girls, talk to your old man."  
  
Draco held up his hands and I let him go. He sneered and straightened his black jacket.  
  
"Don't worry, Potter. I wasn't going to try to steal another one."  
  
Why I resisted the urge to kill him right then and there, I'll never know.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
"Where was Longbottom?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"He's supposed to be following my father. Why wasn't he at Serpensmordre last night like you were?"  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"Yes, I'm serious. I never saw him."  
  
"It's his job to be invisible, Malfoy! You're not supposed to see him."  
  
"Has he reported to you yet?"  
  
"No. It's only …" I glanced at the clock on my desk, "Wow, it's noon. I slept in."  
  
"I'm not paying you to sleep in!"  
  
"It's Sunday. I don't work Sundays."  
  
"I thought private eyes were always on call. What if something pertinent to an investigation happens on a Sunday?"  
  
"Rarely happens."  
  
Draco made a pitiful face.  
  
"I even work Sundays and all I do is bottle bubbly pop."  
  
I shrugged, wishing desperately that I was still under the covers with Ginny.  
  
"Schedule a day off; are we done here?"  
  
"Do tell me when you hear something, won't you?" he said, starting for the door.  
  
"You'll be the first to know," I lied.  
  
"Oh, and here's this," he said, taking a jingling money bag from each of his men and dropping them to the floor inside the doorway. "Your 5000 galleons."  
  
"Thanks," I muttered, watching them stroll to the stairwell.  
  
"See you around, Potter."  
  
I went back into my apartment and retrieved my wand to repair my door before returning to my bedroom. Ginny was sitting against the headboard, watching me apprehensively.  
  
"You're working for Draco?"  
  
"Kind of," I told her, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"I thought you were working for me."  
  
I reclined over the blankets and rested my head on her leg.  
  
"The jobs go together nicely."  
  
She began to pet my hair and I smiled up at her.  
  
"What are you doing for Draco?"  
  
"He thinks Lucius is trying to kill him. Neville's following him and I'm supposed to make my presence known at Serpensmordre so Lucius isn't the wiser," I informed her, taking her hand and holding it to my chest. "Oh, and he's just paid me a large sum of money to never see you again."  
  
"How large?"  
  
"5000 galleons."  
  
Ginny shook her head in exasperation.  
  
"When did he make those arrangements?"  
  
"Yesterday, but he just now dropped off the money."  
  
"Are you going to stop seeing me?" she asked, pouting her lip playfully.  
  
I flipped over onto my belly, propping my head in my hands.  
  
"I never gave it a second thought. When are you moving your things back?"  
  
"Dad's going to take me in the car."  
  
I grinned remembering Mr. Weasley's uncanny infatuation with muggle vehicles.  
  
"When, though?" I traced shapes into the blanket over her thigh with my finger.  
  
"Hopefully, this afternoon. I told Draco I was staying with them last night and that I'd be spending the day with Mom."  
  
"Liar, liar, pants on fire," I mumbled, smiling.  
  
"Look who's talking. At least I'm not stealing the man's money."  
  
I shrugged and sat up next to her.  
  
"I don't see you complaining."  
  
"Well, no."  
  
"Especially when I buy you a new ring," I whispered, taking her left hand.  
  
She looked at me in disbelief and I kissed her.  
  
"Go get your things and meet me for dinner tonight."  
  
Ginny smiled and kissed my cheek.  
  
  
  
Cloud nine was a nice ride as I floated into the Forge and saw Ron sitting at the bar.  
  
"Harry!" he greeted as I took the barstool beside him  
  
"Whaddaya hear …" Fred started.  
  
"… Whaddaya say?" George finished pulling out four shot glasses and lining them up. I put up a hand.  
  
"Not today, boys. Liquor can do nothing for me. Do you have a chocolate frog?"  
  
All three Weasley's gaped at me and I grinned.  
  
"Alright, maybe one."  
  
Ron watched me closely, smiling a little as George filled one of the shot glasses.  
  
"What have you been doing?" he inquired.  
  
"Slept in," I shrugged, "Go figure."  
  
Ron smirked and made sure Fred and George were out of earshot.  
  
"She came back, then?"  
  
"Even your temper couldn't make me lie to you right now."  
  
"This feels so wrong to say, but …"  
  
"Oh, Ron, she is that good."  
  
He grimaced but patted me on the back and mumbled, "Good for you. I'm happy."  
  
"Heya, Harry," Neville announced as he took the empty seat next to me.  
  
"If it isn't my favorite Neville in the whole world," I proclaimed, turning to my friend.  
  
Neville looked past me to Ron with a funny look.  
  
"Is he drunk?"  
  
"No, but he's intoxicated."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Ginny," I cut in, still smiling. Neville chuckled and nodded. Noticing I had an untouched shot of firewhiskey and remembering that this was blasphemy in the Forge, I quickly remedied the situation. "But I'm sure Luna and Hermione gave you both the special treatment."  
  
Ron frowned, "No, her mother called last night and she went to help decorate for some party this week."  
  
I made a pained face, "That's rough, Ron."  
  
"Nor me," Neville spoke up. "Malfoy just now went to bed. I was trailing him all night."  
  
"That's my fault, and I really am sorry."  
  
Neville shook his head.  
  
"Don't be. I love my job."  
  
"Surely you heard something then?" Ron said.  
  
"Oh yeah, lots of things. They're unsure about you, Harry."  
  
"Unsure? They are? How?"  
  
"Lucius saw you making eyes with Ginny, but he missed your exchange with Draco."  
  
"You saw that?"  
  
"I see everything. I saw you go into the peep show and come back. You looked straight at me at one point when you were glancing around the room. Then you left and I stuck around."  
  
"You went to a peep show?" Ron asked.  
  
"I have to do something other than drink while I'm on the job. I didn't watch. Loose-lipped attendant started talking about Seamus."  
  
"Fudge?" Neville said. "He always talks during the shows."  
  
Ron and I looked at him expectantly.  
  
"I spend most of my life sneaking around shady places trying to get information. I don't go for the view," he explained, waving the twins over so he could get a drink.  
  
I turned an incredulous look on him and he shook his head.  
  
"Why would I go to Serpensmordre when I've got Luna? She's all the peep show I need," he added, asking for a muggle single-malt scotch.  
  
Ron made a face at me and went back to his butterbeer.  
  
"Back to Lucius, then, eh?" I tried and Neville swallowed quickly and went on.  
  
"He told Flint that he believes you to be an easy sway to his ranks if he needed you. He thinks your working on reclaiming your stake in Ginny and that you wouldn't mind working against Draco if it came to it."  
  
"So he is really out to get his son," Ron commented.  
  
"Seems that way, but! Lucius then, after you left, called a meeting with Draco, at which time I also saw Ginny leave. The agenda was all over the place, but he capped it off by telling him about the eye-contact and silent conversation between you and yours. Draco reacted hotly at the meeting, but didn't seem so bothered by it when he left. Ginny was back in the suite when he returned, and I don't know where she went, though I'm sure you could tell me."  
  
"The meeting?" I prodded.  
  
"First, let me tell you that Draco went ahead and took his father's heed and made arrangements for he and Ginny to leave in a couple of days."  
  
"Ginny's leaving?" Ron asked.  
  
"No," I said, "I'll explain later. The meeting, Neville."  
  
"Draco told him he was working on making a few breakthroughs with a new flavor, though he never let on what it was; that he had an inside guy with a major chocolate drink company."  
  
"Seamus," Ron put in.  
  
"We knew that, though," I told him, but Ron shook his head and pointed to a dark corner. Seamus was talking in hushed tones to someone in the shadows. "Who's he with, can you tell?"  
  
"Want me to go?" Neville inquired.  
  
"No, stay here and continue. Keep an eye on him Ron."  
  
"Sure thing, Harry," Ron muttered, asking his brothers for another butterbeer.  
  
"Lucius feigned impression at this, and Draco went on to talk about a small shipment of the first formula for the new flavor. Lucius seemed very interested and asked a few questions, but Draco was mum from then on. That's when Lucius brought up the other about you and Ginny."   
  
"Interesting," I thought aloud.  
  
"After I left Ginny and Draco upstairs and went back to Lucius, he was once again speaking to Flint. He was talking about a shipment and I thought he was referring to the same one as before."  
  
"But no?"  
  
"Nope. This one's supposed to be huge and Lucius seems to know the dirty details, but he wasn't letting on anything to the barman. He left and went to the unfrequented alleyway between the Candied Cauldron and here."  
  
I began to think that the unfrequented alleyway was ineptly titled as such.  
  
"You'll never guess who he was talking to there."  
  
"The Russian in the corner," Ron piped up.  
  
"How'd you know?" Neville asked.  
  
"No, 'in' the corner, look," my partner motioned vaguely towards the dark corner. "That's who Seamus is talking to."  
  
"I am so lost, I don't know what I'm looking for anymore," I remarked, turning back to the bar. "Two more," I said, jabbing the bar with my forefinger.  
  
"Wondering when …" Fred said, pulling up another shot glass.  
  
"… You'd come around," George added, filling both glasses.  
  
"Did you hear what they were talking about in the alley?" I asked, throwing back a drink.  
  
"Harry, I'm hurt. When have I ever not heard what they were talking about?" Neville whimpered, feigning offense. George brought him a second single-malt scotch and he smiled. "They talked about the shipment in cryptic detail."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"They'd never refer specifically to the contents. Several units of the 'it' and some cases of the 'things' and money exchanged hands. I really am quite clueless as to what the 'it' and the 'things' are. I was never a skilled code-breaker," Neville finished with a frown.  
  
"What did he do today?"  
  
"Got yelled at by his wife and slept around with half of his women. I got bored and followed Draco for awhile, but he was doing much of the same."  
  
"Bastard," Ron spat, slamming his bottle on the bar. "Cheating on our Ginny."  
  
I laughed once and he shrugged.  
  
"I don't care if she cheats on him. It's different."  
  
We heard the door open behind us and the twins whistled low in unison.  
  
"I'd ask you not to acknowledge my presence in the future, if you please," said a familiar voice. Neville, Ron and I spun in our barstools to face him.  
  
"Lucius, old man, what brings you here?" I queried. "Certainly not the firewhiskey."  
  
"No, no, Mr. Potter, merely my express desire to request your presence at the gala tomorrow night."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"I'm inviting you," he motioned at my friends, "and your coworkers to a gala at Serpensmordre tomorrow night."  
  
"Me?" Ron asked, pointing at himself.  
  
"And Mr. Longbottom," Lucius added and Neville gulped audibly, "As well as your escorts … if you don't have an escort, one may be provided for a small fee."  
  
"What's the celebration?"  
  
"Bubbly pop," came the bitter reply, "My son believes he has stumbled upon greatness and has requested your presence."  
  
"I thought it was your express desire to request my presence?"  
  
"I lied. Eight o'clock. I shall hope to see you all there."  
  
With that, Lucius Malfoy strolled out of the Forge.  
  
"Draco's small fortune in carbonation doesn't seem to rank high on Lucius' list of favorite things," Ron commented as we spun forward again.  
  
"No, I take that it's not," Neville added.  
  
I sighed and pushed the empty glasses away from me.  
  
"Today is our day off. We shouldn't have to deal with anybody at all. It should be relaxing and/or exhausting depending on who we spend it with, but there is no way that we should be thinking this much."  
  
"So what did you mean earlier when you said Ginny's not leaving?" Ron wanted to know. Neville looked up from his third scotch and rested his head in his hand.  
  
"She wants to move back in with me."  
  
"She …"  
  
"…what?" the twins asked. I hadn't noticed that they were standing in front of us.  
  
"You're dad is taking her to get her things from Malfoy's today and she's coming home."  
  
"That's great!" Ron exclaimed, grinning and slapping me on the back.  
  
"So she broke up with Malfoy today then?" Neville inquired.  
  
"I don't think so. As you know, she came for a moment and then went back and I went to bed. When I woke up, she was with me and we talked …"  
  
"Sure," Ron interrupted.  
  
"We did talk and she said she wanted to move back in. Draco then shows up and drops off the 5000 he's paying me to never see her again, all the while she's hiding in my room. After he left I had to explain everything to her, because I hadn't gotten the chance yet."  
  
"Busy morning," Neville stated, finishing his scotch and placing his hand over the top when George tried to fill it again. "No more for me. I do have people to do and things to see."  
  
"Sounds like you've had a bit too much already," Ron laughed.  
  
Neville stopped for a moment as he stood and his mouth moved slightly as he seemed to be replaying his words over in his head.  
  
"No, that's what I meant," he smiled, waggling his eyebrows. "You guys aren't going into the office today are you? Luna wants to … er … see the desk."  
  
Ron and I held up our hands.  
  
"Consider the office off my potential places to go today," I replied.  
  
"Mine as well," Ron agreed. 


	9. July 26: Delays and Dropped Hats

July 26: Delays and Dropped Hats  
  
  
  
Flopping back on my couch, I loosened my tie and placed my glasses on my chest, rubbing my eyes. I kicked my shoes off and crossed my legs at the ankle, tipping my hat forward and hooking an arm behind my head. My apartment was quiet and, while sleep was tempting, I had no interest in dozing. All the information that had been dumped on me the past few days was buzzing around in my brain, but I forced it all to go away for awhile, leaving me with a fair amount of emptiness to my thoughts.  
  
As I had done many times in the past, I wished Ginny was here, the difference being, that, this time, she was really coming home to me at the end of the day. A tap at the window alerted me to the presence of an owl, and, looking out from under my hat, I groaned.  
  
"That woman doesn't know when to quit," I muttered, standing and going to the window, throwing it open. "You stay for a minute," I commanded the heinous fowl that was Cho Chang's and took the rolled up parchment from it's leg. I didn't bother to even read it, choosing to scribble my sentiments on the back of it.  
  
  
  
'The shoulder you are seeking to cry on has reached it's tearful capacity and must be drained before further use. Please consult your handbook entitled 'Crying Into One's Own Shoulder Despite Several Skeletal Hindrances' for further information on how to remedy this situation. Thank you.'  
  
  
  
"Off with you and your tidings of woe," I shouted as it flew away.  
  
"What was that?" a voice came from the door.  
  
I turned and smiled.  
  
"What?" she asked as Mr. Weasley set down a trunk in the entryway. Ginny put down the boxes she was carrying and looked at me.  
  
"Just happy to see you."  
  
"Hello, Harry," Arthur Weasley greeted happily, shaking my hand and pulling me into a bear hug, knocking my hat off my head. "So glad to see you again and under these circumstances."  
  
"Likewise, sir," I gasped.  
  
"Let him go, Dad. I like him much better breathing," Ginny cut in, prying me from her father's arms and placing my hat back on my head.  
  
"Right then," the older man said, still grinning. "I'll leave you to it."  
  
He left and I frowned good-humoredly at the red-headed girl beside me, wrapping my arms around her waist.  
  
"To what?"  
  
"To whatever it is that two people like you and I do when we're alone in an apartment."  
  
I thought for a moment.  
  
"Play rook?"  
  
"Of course; where have you put your cards?" she smiled, trying to push me away, but I pulled her closer.  
  
"I don't really want to play rook."  
  
She arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Gin rummy, then?"  
  
"I like the Gin part."  
  
She bit her lip and looked away. I kissed her cheek and worked my way down to her neck.  
  
"I should unpack," she continued and I made a noise of agreement, directing her to the couch. "I mean, the day shouldn't be … wasted … on …" her voice trailed off and I laid her back on the settee. "A couple hours won't make too much of a difference," she gave in, finally.  
  
  
  
"Where did you used to have this?" I called, racking my brain to remember.  
  
"What is it?" she asked from the bedroom.  
  
"This picture of you, Neville, Ron and me."  
  
"On the sofa table."  
  
"Ah, yes," I remembered. "This was when you were still with Neville wasn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, right before Luna moved here and took him away." There was no bitterness in her voice.  
  
"Sorry you got stuck with me," I joked, setting the picture down.  
  
"I'm not."  
  
I smiled to myself and pulled another picture from the box.  
  
"I've never seen this one of Ron and Mione's wedding and I'm in it." It was of Ron, Neville and I, both groomsmen, and Hermione, Ginny and Luna, bridesmaids.  
  
"I was with Draco then. Hermione sent it to me. I figured you would have had one."  
  
"Not that I remember … Then again, I don't remember much from that time," I attested, placing the picture beside the one from school. "Oh, Gin?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you want to come with me to the gala tomorrow night?"  
  
"The what?" she asked, standing in the doorway of the bedroom in a bathrobe.  
  
"There's going to be a party at Serpensmordre. Lucius invited Ron, Neville and me along with our escorts."  
  
"Is Draco unveiling?"  
  
I looked at her in confusion, "Excuse me?"  
  
"Is he unveiling his new flavor?" she asked again.  
  
"Lucius said it had to do with bubbly pop. I suppose that's what it is."  
  
"I can't go with you. I have to go with Draco."  
  
I made a face.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because this changes things," she stated, reaching for the dress she had been wearing earlier.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"No, Harry, I'm staying with you. I'll just have to keep up appearances until Tuesday," she explained, but it didn't do much to appease me.  
  
"I don't want to keep up appearances until Tuesday. I want you here tonight and Monday night and every night from now until … forever."  
  
She smiled a sad smile and kissed my cheek before turning to go into the bedroom.  
  
"I'm coming back. I promise."  
  
The door shut behind her, but I followed her inside.  
  
"Harry! I'm changing!"  
  
I flopped down on the bed, leaning against the headboard and watching her with a bored look.  
  
"Like I've never seen it all before," I muttered and she shrugged out of the bathrobe. "Ginny …" I sighed, a thought occurring to me.  
  
"I have to do this Harry," she cut me off as she dressed.  
  
"Don't sleep with him."  
  
She stopped and looked at me over her shoulder.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't sleep with him. I'm asking."  
  
"That may prove to be a tough task."  
  
"He's not faithful to you."  
  
She laughed once.  
  
"Neither were you. Could you give me a hand?"  
  
I clenched my jaw, standing and going to her.  
  
"I was after you left," I told her, buttoning the back of her dress and spinning her to face me. She quirked an eyebrow and cast me an incredulous glare.  
  
"You're telling me you've not touched another woman in two years?"  
  
"I didn't."  
  
Her expression changed and she hugged me, her cheek against my chest.  
  
"I won't hardly touch him," she promised.  
  
"Just so you don't," I smiled and she kissed my sternum.  
  
"I should leave though. He'll be wondering where I am."  
  
Ginny made movements to let me go, but I grabbed her arms.  
  
"We had dinner plans tonight, you know," I reminded her.  
  
"Give me a rain check, baby. I'll be here Tuesday."  
  
"When were you going to break it off with him?" I wondered, looking down at her.  
  
"Tomorrow; after spending the night here," she answered, pulling away and walking out of the room. I groaned and went after her. At the front door, she kissed me.  
  
"I love you. I'll see you tomorrow night," Ginny waved and descended the stairs. Retreating into my apartment, I started going through another one of Ginny's boxes, remembering. Once I'd unpacked all the familiar items and put them in their former place, I left the rest for her to deal with when she got back.  
  
I went to the open window and sat on the ledge, looking up and down the street. Twilight had fallen an my neighborhood was fairly quiet. There were two apartment buildings in all of the city and they were across the street from one another, but there were only a few tenants in either. Come to think of it, I don't remember ever seeing anyone else in this building except Luna. Ron and Hermione lived in the other building as well as Neville. It was a quaint arrangement, and I liked it. Our buildings were bookended with a few houses of small families with small children, who, in turn, provided entertainment on slow days.  
  
There was shout and the sound of a struggle from an open window of one of the apartments across the road. I narrowed my eyes, looking from window to window, trying to find the source and catch sight of something. Movement in a window I knew to be Ron's caught my attention. Without thinking, I buttoned up my shirt, running downstairs and across the street. As I approached the building, something landed on the sidewalk next to me. It was Ron's hat. 


	10. July 26: Beatings and Angry Brothers

Note: Sorry it took so long for this to arrive … My plot and I got separated at Wal-Mart. That was an ordeal, lemme tell you ... some other time. This schplitz (ah, you've been privy to a Roxyword) isn't much, and I was going to wait until I finished something significant to post, but alas …  
  
Thanks for reviewing, Lolua, eat paper, Mia-xx, and, to any others that continue to follow that I forgot [insert name here ………….]. Bear with me through the Valley of Plotloss.  
  
July 26: Beatings and Angry Brothers  
  
  
  
"Ron! Ronnie!" I shouted, running up the stairs and into his second-floor apartment. The place was in shambles and I feared the worse. Then I saw him. My best friend was sitting under the window, head back, pinching his nose. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I've been better, but I've been worse, too," he said in a nasally voice, his eyes looking over at me as I moved to kneel beside him.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The Russian."  
  
"He did this to you?"  
  
"Threatened to feed me to the flobberworms if I didn't butt out."  
  
I frowned and Ron shrugged.  
  
"I know it doesn't make sense, but he must have seen me watching him and Seamus in the bar earlier."  
  
He released his nose and brought his head upright. A small trickle of blood dripped over his upper lip and he wiped it away on his sleeve. I held out my hand to help him up and had the urge to hug him.   
  
Ron quirked an eyebrow at me.  
  
"I didn't just almost die, so don't think it. There's no need to hug me."  
  
"Here's your hat," I covered quickly, though it was much too late.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
He took his hat and adjusted it on his head, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket.  
  
"I'll help you get this straightened up," I told him, replacing an upturned table.  
  
"Yeah, Mione's coming back tonight."  
  
"You'd better get cleaned up, then. I'll fix things here as best I can and you go wash up. I'll leave when I'm done."  
  
"Thanks, Harry," he nodded and, looking at me, he patted my back. "For coming."  
  
Hermione came home while I was cleaning up and immediately bombarded me with frantic questions.  
  
"What's this? Where's Ron? Why's this broken? What's this scum on the floor? Why is your lace undone? Your shirt's buttoned improperly, why? Ronnie?!"  
  
I tried to calm her down but she was in a dither casting repairing spells on picture frames, calling for Ron, and fixing my poorly buttons.  
  
"Mione, it's okay."  
  
"Ronnie?!" she shouted again. Ron scrambled into the living room, ginger hair dripping, a towel snug around his waist.  
  
"Why does everybody call me Ronnie when they're worried about me?" he inquired, brushing the hair out of his eyes.  
  
Hermione ran and hugged him   
  
"Oh, Ron," she gasped.  
  
"It's okay, baby, I'm fine. Harry came and made sure I was alright."  
  
"Oh, Harry," the woman said, turning and embracing me.  
  
I raised my eyebrows at my best friend and he retreated into the bathroom.  
  
"I'll be out in a minute."  
  
"I told you it was okay," I said quietly when she let me go and returned to her repairs.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I'm not quite sure, except that the Russian gave him a bloody nose. I saw a commotion through the window and ran over, but he was gone by the time I made it up the stairs," I informed her, frowning when my shoe slipped a little. There were mottled outlines of footprints in some sort of goop on the hardwood floor.  
  
"I thought you said the Russian was a nice guy?"  
  
Kneeling, I reached a hand to investigate the opaque slime.  
  
"I was wrong."  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I was wrong, I admit it." I was growing weary of her constant second-guessing my conduct.  
  
"No, Harry. What's on the floor? I noticed it when I came in."  
  
Rubbing the substance between my thumb and forefinger, I sniffed it. Blackcurrant?  
  
"I thought it was flobberworm mucous, but …"  
  
"But?"  
  
"Now I'm not so sure."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"I don't know. Smells like blackcurrants."  
  
Hermione knelt beside me and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand toward her.  
  
"Let me see tha … Ignomormonos," she declared loudly, eyes wide with understanding. I jumped a little at her outburst, lost my balance and toppled over.  
  
"Ignowhatanos?"  
  
"Ignomormonos. It's a tonic for dry, cracked skin; quite effective actually."  
  
I raised inquisitive eyebrows and she shrugged.  
  
"My mother uses it. She just sent a bottle of it home with me. It's only produced in Blackcurrant scent."  
  
Interesting.  
  
I stood and followed the footprints to the door and saw that they went to the stair well. In my rush to the apartment, I hadn't even noticed them.  
  
"Where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that he had dressed, his hat slightly askew as he liked to wear it. I didn't answer and he followed me as I followed the footprints to the stairs. There were Ignomormonos tracks up from the lower floor and on the stairs to the third floor, a second set heading back down to the lower level.  
  
A shriek sounded from the third floor.  
  
"Is Luna here?" Hermione inquired, peering out the front door.  
  
"Neville," I breathed, running up the stairs to see Luna Lovegood with her hand to her mouth gaping into Longbottom's apartment. Tentatively, I peered in the front door and deflated. My friend was laying face down in a pool of blood, pieces of a firewhiskey bottle scattered about him.  
  
"Oh, Neville," I groaned, dropping to my knees next to him.  
  
"Come here, Luna," I heard Ron say. Looking back, I saw him gather her into his arms and pull her away from the door. He reappeared a moment later and placed a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"See if he's still here, Ron," I said, not looking away from the man on the floor. My partner nodded and left me. I reached out and carefully rolled Neville onto his back and patted his chest, starting to stand. Neville's hand clamped onto my forearm and pulled me down to the ground. I screamed, scrambling away and Neville screamed back, bolting upright. Ron came running back in.  
  
"What is it … Aaaahhh!"  
  
Neville screamed again. The three of us screamed at each other.  
  
"You're dead!" I yelled.  
  
"I'm not!" Neville yelled back.  
  
"You're bleeding!" Ron shouted.  
  
"I am?"  
  
"Nevy!" Luna shrieked clomping into the room, Hermione on her heels. Luna lost her footing when she stepped into the puddle of blood and fell to the floor next to Neville with soft thud. "Ewww!"  
  
Neville cringed.  
  
"Can we stop yelling? My head is killing me. I feel like the morning after I've spent an intimate evening with firewhiskey."  
  
Ron knocked the largest remaining part of the firewhiskey bottle with is foot and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"You did."  
  
Neville reached and touched his hand to his head, wincing when he found the gash above his right ear.  
  
"What the hell happened to me?" he asked, wiping the blood from his fingers on his already stained shirt.  
  
"You don't know?" I asked, getting to my feet and holding my hand out to him. I helped him up and he pulled Luna into his arms.  
  
"Oh, Nevy, I thought I'd lost you," the woman breathed, embracing him and he blushed a little under the splotches of blood on his cheeks.  
  
"Longbottom's don't give in that easy, baby, you know that. It'll take a lot more to take me out than a bottle of firewhiskey."  
  
She smiled and wiped some of the blood from his lips, leaning up to kiss him.  
  
"Hello?" I said loudly, reminding them that there was a conversation going on.  
  
Luna frowned at me and Neville cleared his throat.  
  
"Right, Harry, sorry. No, I don't know what happened. I had just come in when …" He furrowed his brow. "Well, when you woke me up. I don't remember anything."  
  
"We should get you to the hospital."  
  
"I should be fine," he disagreed, shaking his head a little, all the while blood continued to run down the side of his face.  
  
"Neville, you're going to bleed to death if we don't get that wound closed."  
  
Luna pressed her hand against the gash, trying to hold the blood in and he winced.  
  
"Where's Ginny, then? Didn't she train as a healer after school?"  
  
"Yeah, where is Ginny?" Ron wanted to know and Hermione quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, er, uh, she's with Malfoy right now."  
  
Ron looked livid, eyes popping.  
  
"Malfoy?!" he spat, "I thought she was moving in with you again!"  
  
"She is … Tuesday. Ron it's nothing. We need to put something on that. Hermione, could you get a towel or something?"  
  
Hermione bustled off and Ron began pacing.  
  
"Tuesday?! What the hell is she waiting till Tuesday for? She's up to something, damnit," Ron muttered, rubbing his fingers over his chin and lower lip as he thought out loud.  
  
"Really, she had good reason, Ron," I tried.  
  
Hermione returned and started to hand it to Neville.  
  
"Oh, thanks," Luna told her, taking the towel and, instead of using it on Neville, she wiped her hands clean and handed it back. Hermione was aghast and moved to press it to Neville's head.  
  
"Thanks, Mione," he whispered, holding the towel himself.  
  
"I'm going to find out what's going on in that ruddy little head of hers," Ron was saying, bitterly, "if it's the last thing I do."  
  
With that, Ron snapped his fingers and stormed out of the room.  
  
"Ron?" I questioned.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione called and followed after him.  
  
I sighed defeatedly.  
  
"Come on, Neville. I'm taking you to the hospital." 


End file.
